Rïsa abr Shur'tugal
by ScorchedRaven
Summary: Five years after the fall of Galbatorix, amid new stirrings of trouble in Alagaësia, a young human Rider and his dragon prepare to journey east and train with the New Riders. Rated T for safety, will probably contain some violence, but no adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

_**Quick disclaimer for the entire story: I don't own any of the Inheritance Cycle. All rights and ideas and worldbuilding belong to Christopher Paolini, and I am only adding on to the world he has already created.**_

 _ **Also, this fic is going to be irregularly updated after the first few chapters, so fair warning that I may go a while between updates.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

Arya sighed and pushed her chair away from her desk. Already the night was halfway gone and she was still wading through the profusion of letters related to the political and economical status of Du Weldenvarden. She'd had no idea that, by agreeing to rule her people, she'd consented to death by paperwork. But, there she was.

Most of the parchment cluttering her workspace was related to the rulership of her people: ever since marching on the Empire, the älfaykin had begun the slow process of reconnecting with the other races, and that meant work and letters and approvals for their queen to write. The remaining, however, were things of a more serious nature: letters from Orik and Nasuada concerning the state of their realms, reports from her ambassadors to the other kingdoms, and a precious few letters from Eragon and the new Riders.

Five years had passed since Galbaltorix fell, but to Arya the time seemed both negligible and an eternity. It had been so long since she had spoken with Eragon or Saphira in person, since she had walked without the weight of her realm on her shoulders, but she could still taste the smoke in the throne room, hear the crunch of stone falling from the ceiling, and see Niernen shatter the light in the eye of the great black dragon. She shuddered still to think of it, curling her hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

There was a loud creaking from the direction of the main chamber, and Arya opened her eyes, gladly abandoning her work to go see her dragon.

Firnen perched at the edge of the room and snorted a greeting at her. Since the loss of the other Riders, Arya and Firnen had taken over the chambers high in a tree usually reserved for the leader of the Riders. Since the one bearing that title would likely never return to Alagaesia, she saw no purpose for letting the chambers go to waste.

 _How went the hunt?_ She asked her partner.

Firnen made a shrugging motion with his shoulders, very odd-looking on a dragon. _Well enough_ , he replied. _Game is running nicely._ He communicated an image to her of a large, healthy herd, of which he had taken two does and a young stag. Arya smiled at him over her shoulder as she crossed the room.

 _And how goes_ your _battle?_ He inquired dryly, indicating the door to her study with a nod. Arya rolled her eyes expressively in response.

 _Miserable as ever, dearest. I sometimes wish I was still only ferrying dragon eggs. At least there, I could punch things which attacked me._ Arya reached the shelves built into the opposite wall and opened a cabinet containing late-night snacks. _Actually_ , she continued as she reached in, _you just rescued me. I told myself I would work until you returned, so now I'll do no more until I've rested._

 _I'm glad_ , Firnen commented. _I wouldn't want you to work yourself to death, not when we have a Rider and Dragon to train._

Arya sighed, looking back in the direction of her study. _Yes. And I fear we are going to have to speed their training yet again. Things in Alagaesia are not as they should be._

 _Even if they are not,_ Firnen answered _, they will wait until morning._

Arya fervently hoped he was right.


	2. Chapter 2

There are two types of mornings in Ellesmèra, Corrin had discovered.

On the first type of mornings, the sun rose slowly. The leaves on the trees filtered the light to a gorgeous green tint, and by the time it is light enough to wake one up, the forest is filled with the sound of assiduously protected animal life, mostly songbirds. On those mornings, a person could sleep late and spend time on a leisurely breakfast by the window.

Then there were the other mornings. Namely, mornings when the green-scaled dragon patriarch of Du Weldenvarden landed outside your door and roared loud enough to wake the dead. Unfortunately for Corrin, it was one of those mornings.

Lady Arya said that Firnen was very deep-voiced for a dragon, so when Corrin heard a sound like an avalanche, he knew immediately who it was. _Awake!_ howled the dragon. _We have much to do!_

 _Yes, Ebrithil!_ The young Rider yelped. He heard a similar sound from the adjacent hollow where his dragon slept. Corrin lunged out of his bed, only to be tripped by the blankets still tangled around him. He only just managed to get an arm up between his nose and the floor. Kicking the blankets away, he scrambled back to his feet and grabbed his vest and belt, throwing them over the loose tan shirt and black leggings the elves had given him. He caught a glimpse of his own face in the mirror, a flash of tan skin and sandy, mussed hair, but he had no time to worry about his appearance. Quickly stepping into his boots, Corrin snatched an apple from the basket on the table before rushing outside.

Firnen and Kiera were waiting. The great green dragon stood in the center of the clearing which their house opened onto. Corrin, unused to being any higher than the top of a wall, had requested living quarters on the ground rather than a lofty aerie such as the one his masters inhabited. Now, he shared a ground level wooden structure with his dragon. Who, speaking of which, was sitting next to the much larger Firnen, with her sandy-colored head turned towards their master. Corrin jogged up to stand by Kiera's side. When she turned one red eye on him, he smiled up at her, before both of them turned back to Firnen.

 _We are starting with aerial maneuvers today_ , said their master. _I expect that you will both also work on your mental shields: I will be testing them at random points during the exercise._

 _Yes, Ebrithil_ , chorused the two students. Corrin jumped up, grabbed a strap, and hoisted himself onto his dragon's back. Her growth was no longer at the same speed as those hectic first few weeks after she hatched, but Kiera still seemed taller every time he needed to ride. Having managed the jump this time, he settled himself in the molded-leather saddle and secured the straps around his legs. As he did, he reached out with his mind towards his partner in crime.

Within minutes, the trio were in the air, beating west towards the Crags of Tel'neaìr, where most of their training was conducted. At the moment, Corrin and Kiera were the only Rider trainees in Ellesmèra, or anywhere else in Alagaesia for that matter. Five years had passed since the defeat of Galbatorix and the exodus of the Riders, and a system had been arranged for the location and training of new Riders. Twice a year, Arya and Firnen traveled across Alagaesia, ferrying two eggs to the capitals of each of the realms. First Tronjheim, then the unnamed capital of the Urgralgra, then Ilirea and Aberon, and finally back here to Ellesmèra. At each city, young candidates from the race inhabiting that city were presented to the eggs in the hopes of a hatch, while dignitaries from each of the other races watched. He'd heard, before becoming a Rider himself, that a dragon had actually hatched in Tronjheim for one of the _human_ ambassadors, but most of the time, the eggs simply refused to hatch, having deemed the candidates unworthy.

Corrin could still remember Kiera's hatching: the oppressive heat inside the castle at Aberon, the ever-shifting crowd of nobles, soldiers, and commoners alike, and the smooth cool surface of the ochre-tinted egg. That had been less than six months ago, but already it seemed a lifetime.

 _Agreed_ , said the young female, who had been listening to his silent reflection.

 _Well, of course it would seem that way to you, you big lump_ , he huffed at her, _it's been your entire life!_ It did not improve his mood to hear her mental laughter as she banked to follow Firnen.

 _Oh, calm down_ , she told him. _I'm sure in a few decades it won't seem that long. But then again,_ she continued in mock-thoughtful tones, _I am rather hard to get used to, with my stunning personality._

Corrin sighed and covered his face with one gloved hand.

Firnen led them in a slow, wheeling descent down to the field next to Oromis's hut. Corrin knew from experience that the building was outfitted to hold hundreds of scrolls, many of which Arya used to teach him the ancient language. Kiera touched down and folded her wings neatly. Corrin took the time to double check his straps before Firnen began their exercises.

 _Arya and I have decided to adjust your training,_ said their master. _Kiera will soon be strong enough to fly to Eragon, and both of you must be prepared for your arrival there. This will be your last day of aerial maneuvering: from now on all flying practice needs to be to increase your endurance. And both of you will be devoting every spare minute to studying the ancient language: you must have reached competency by the time you leave. Do you understand?_

 _Yes, Ebrithil,_ said Corrin, suppressing the sudden flurry of questions and worry which rose up in response to that statement.

 _Yes, Ebrithil,_ echoed his dragon. Firnen nodded and paced away from them to test the wind. As soon as his attention was away from them, Kiera opened her thoughts to Corrin. _Can you believe it! We'll be going to join the Riders soon, and from his tone it won't be long at all!_

Corrin grinned. _Yeah, we've almost made it, Kiera. Just imagine being with so many dragons!_

 _It'll be like nothing we've ever seen,_ she agreed _. I can't wait._

 ** _*dragons*dragons*dragons*_**

Corrin focused as hard as he could on an image of an oak leaf as Firnen assaulted his mind, even as Kiera dropped one shoulder and twisted into a barrel roll. Corrin had gotten much, much better at flying since they'd started, but that particular move never ceased to make his stomach roil, and in this case the distraction was enough for Firnen to slip past his defenses.

 _Focus, Corrin_ , he bellowed, _you cannot always count on a sterile environment for a fight._ Corrin gritted his teeth and put up his mental shields again, this time focusing all his intent on a pattern of cobblestones. He could feel the mind of the green dragon probing at his consciousness, trying to find a weak spot.

 _Sands and stones_ , but he hated mental training. By itself, the flying was exhilarating, any and all work with the sword was his joy, and even the reading and the meditating could be enjoyable. But the attempt to ward off the mind of the infinitely more experienced Firnen was an exercise in futility and frustration. Doing so for hours sapped the strength and made both him and Kiera irritable.

He was saved by the bell, or in this case Arya. At her whistle, both Firnen and Kiera spiraled down to land on opposite sides of the meadow. Arya was standing in the doorway of Oromis's hut, with one hand on her hip and one on the pommel of her sword.

"Good morning, Ebrithil," Corrin called out as he dismounted.

Arya glanced up at the sky. "Nearly afternoon, come to think of it. Did Firnen discuss your adjusted schedules with you already?"

 _Yes, Ebrithil,_ responded Kiera.

"Good," said Arya. "I'm going to assess both of your abilities in the ancient language this afternoon. We'll settle on a departure date based on the amount you still need to learn. In the meantime, you both could probably use something to eat. We'll talk while we eat. Kiera, if you would go with Firnen to hunt, Corrin will help me make lunch." Arya beckoned Corrin to follow her inside as Kiera and Firnen took off once more. Corrin waved to Kiera and ducked over the threshold.

Arya offered him a chair, safely distant from the honeycomb shelves of scrolls that occupied one wall, and set him to peeling vegetables while she readied several different fruit-based dishes.

"So," she said as she carried a basket of strawberries over, "I presume you and Kiera have been discussing our plans to send you off?"

Corrin shrugged ruefully. "A little," he conceded. "Going to join Eragon and continue our training as Rider and Dragon? It's exciting news."

Arya smiled softly. "It is that," she agreed. After a moment's silence, she added, "Shur'tugal"

"What?"

"Shur'tugal. It's the word for the bond between the Rider and the Dragon, but it also refers to the pair. A Rider is Shur'tugal where his species is not, and their dragon is Shur'tugal even though a wild dragon is not."

"So…" Corrin hazarded a guess, "You and Firnen have decided to send us east to continue our training as Shur'tugal?" Arya nods. Corrin considered for a moment. "Why did you decide to send us now?"

Arya sighed and put down her knife for a moment. "Because we need you to move on into the next stage of your training." She stood, walking over to the window as she continued speaking. "It has been five years since Galbatorix was defeated, Corrin, and do you know how many Shur'tugal I have sent to Eragon during that time?"

"No," replied Corrin, "Firnen said the secret was safer if as few people as possible knew."

"And he was right, because if it was widely known how few Riders there are, there are groups in Alagaesia who would be encouraged to cause trouble, and Firnen and I can only be in so many places at once. The dragon eggs, they haven't hatched at the speed we need them to. A dragon and rider may be connected for a thousand years or more, so they have a right to choose carefully, but it means that a dragon-in-egg is extremely picky. In five years, I've sent only two dragons and two Riders to Eragon."

" _Two?_ " Corrin was aghast. In his wildest suspicions he'd never imagined that they were so few. On the streets of Aberon the supposed number had ranged between 20 and 200.

"Two," confirmed Arya. "You see the problem we face. The only action I can take at the moment to bolster our numbers is to send any new Rider to Eragon as soon as their dragon can bear the journey. I am sorry to send you alone- I had hoped another dragon would hatch that could travel with you- but it can't be helped. Kiera is ready, you will be ready by the time you leave, and Alagaesia needs you too badly for me to keep you any longer." She turned away from the window and sat down across the table from him. "All is not right in the lands of the other races, Eragon. Nasuada faces dissent and rebellion all over the Empire, Orrin is as belligerent as ever, and Orik has all he can do to keep his people from war over their lack of a Rider. It's only a matter of time before the situation descends into outright conflict."

Corrin had to think about his response for a moment, first to assimilate this new knowledge, then to translate what he wanted to say into the ancient language. "If Alagaesia needs us, Ebrithil," he said hesitantly, "then Kiera and I will do everything in our power to aid our homeland." He was thrilled that he made it through the whole thing, for to say it in a language which compelled truth assured him of his own self-confidence.

Arya smiled brilliantly. "Good," she exclaimed in his tongue. "Such an attitude will make for a great Rider indeed."

A red eye unexpectedly appeared in the window. _And a great dragon too, I hope?_ Kiera queried.

"Oh, but of course," Arya responded.


	3. Chapter 3

That afternoon Arya gave them a deadline of two weeks until they needed to fly, and the days seemed to race past, each faster than the last. Every day now started with Firnen wakening them, and every day went by in a flash of letters and conjugations as Arya hammered the ancient language into his brain. Corrin hardly saw Kiera anymore except at night and first thing in the morning: Firnen was spending every waking moment pushing her endurance in flight to higher levels.

A week into their preparation time, Corrin had taken a mid morning break to eat something, and on a whim was sitting on the grass outside. Nearby, Arya had brought out a table and chair and was using the break to tackle official paperwork required of the queen of the elves, which she had lately been neglecting to help him. Occasionally a shadow passed over them as Firnen and Kiera's exercises brought them overhead.

He was regarding the apple core sitting in his hand when Arya looked up from her work with a frown. Even as Corrin noticed the change in her demeanor, she stood and maneuvered around the table, walking towards the other end of the meadow. By the time he'd managed to get up and follow her, he was almost batted over by the wind from Firnen's wings as the dragon soared in to land by his Rider. Corrin sensed Kiera landing behind him.

He was only at the edge of the meadow before an elf on horseback burst out of the treeline, spotted them, and rode at breakneck speed towards Arya. Corrin broke into a jog to catch up, then immediately had to switch to a sprint when Arya started running.

The horse skidded to a halt and the elf all but threw himself out of the saddle. Corrin was close enough now to be shocked by the elf's appearance: he had grown used to the reserved and sometimes emotionless älfykin, but the dark-haired individual before him was wide-eyed and wheezing with panic.

Arya seemed just as disconcerted as he was. "Nari?" she questioned, frowning.

"Lady Arya," gasped the elf, "There is a dragon, a _red_ dragon, approaching from the north, and it is headed straight for Ellesmèra!"

Arya froze. "Red?"

 _Dragon?_ Firnen hissed

"North!" repeated Nari, pointing.

Corrin whirled and threw himself into Kiera's saddle. In that moment, they were of one mind, and that mind was the mind of a dragon and rider who had only ever met one other of their kind before, and who further had sworn to protect the people of Alagaesia barely a week ago. Friend or foe, they would face whatever stranger had come to Ellesmèra.

With that heroic impulse in mind, the two of them lunged with one mind for the sky.

Firnen whirled on a dime and snapped with all the power he had, but he still reacted too slow to stop Corrin and Kiera from launching over the heads of the equally shocked Arya and Nari and taking flight over the forest.

"Corrin-" cried Arya belatedly, "-oh it's no use." She dashed back to Firnen and leaped for the saddle. "Nari! Get back to Ellesmera and aid Lord Dathedr in arranging a defence. I will attempt to parley with the newcomer, but if it fails you must be ready to attack." She secured the final strap. _Catch them, Firnen!_ She thought to the great green dragon, and his powerful wings flung them into the sky.

 ** _*dragons*dragons*dragons*_**

Corrin had seriously underestimated how much Kiera's speed had improved. They both had.

Or maybe it wasn't that, maybe it was just that Firnen was far older and his greater wingspan and experience gave him all of the advantages.

Either way, they were no more than halfway back to Ellesmèra when Kiera suddenly folded her wings to drop out of the way, and a great mass of green scales flew over their heads. Corrin feared for a moment that the older dragon would turn on them as retribution for their impulsiveness, but Firnen did not so much as slow down on his headlong rush to the capital, leaving Kiera to flounder along after him.

They finally located both their masters, sitting at the south side of the large field which the elves used for weapons training. Firnen was sitting up on his haunches with an unblinking gaze fixed on the north horizon. Arya sat in his saddle with Támerlien lying across her lap. The clearing appeared deserted, but as they made their final approach he glimpsed elves hidden in the shadows or perched on branches, where they were concealed from above.

Kiera landed uneasily beside Firnen, immediately folding her wings to make herself as small as possible. Arya turned her head enough to raise an eyebrow at Corrin, who flushed and grinned sheepishly. Arya shook her head, but he thought he could see a smile hovering around her lips. _Full points for bravery,_ she said to both of them, _but perhaps you ought to wait until the stronger dragon can aid you, at least until you are older._

 _Yes, Ebrithil_ , Corrin mumbled. Kiera bobbed her head.

 _There_ , said Firnen, thankfully interrupting any other embarrassing comments. Everyone turned their focus to the north, but Corrin, with his weaker human eyes, had to receive direction from Kiera before he saw it: A red glint against the clouds, rapidly getting larger. As they all watched in silence, the light split again and again until it was visible as sunlight on dragon scales. And what a dragon! They seemed to be nearly there, but as the dragon continued to grow larger without landing, Corrin realized that the dragon was at least as big as Firnen, and his apparent proximity of a few moments ago was merely an illusion.

He faintly heard Arya whisper a word in the ancient language which he hadn't learned yet.

By the time the great red dragon pulled to a hover above the north edge of the field, it was apparent that he was even larger than Firnen, though by only a few feet, a mass of scales and muscles as large as three houses. Corrin swallowed nervously.

So focused was he on the dragon, that he did not notice that the red had a rider until the armored stranger slid down his dragon's side and stood next to a bloodred front leg. He was completely unremarkable, save for the red, wire-wrapped sword hilt which was visible slung over one shoulder. Corrin suddenly felt a growing certainty as to the identity of the stranger.

 _Stay here_ , ordered Arya, as she herself slid down Firnen's side and moved to where the armored man could see her. Corrin bit his lip, but Kiera wordlessly communicated to him what she thought of him putting himself in danger, and he obeyed their combined opinion.

As Arya moved out in front of the two dragons, the stranger unbuckled the sword belt which crossed over his chest, unslung the sword in its red scabbard, and laid both sword and sheath in the grass before him. He repeated the process with the knife at his hip, as well as a hidden one in his boot. In response, Arya laid Támerlien in the grass before Firnen's feet, and then crossed the field with a confidence that Corrin found incredible, given the circumstance. The red rider walked out to meet her in the center of the field, as Firnen and the other dragon regarded each other over their Rider's heads.

To Corrin, their inaudible conversation seemed to last lifetimes. He, Kiera, and the uncounted elves hidden on the outskirts of the clearing watched with perfect silence. It seemed that even the wind had paused to wait for their verdict.

 _Do you think Firnen and the red dragon are listening in?_ Corrin asked Kiera.

 _I have no doubt of it,_ she responded, _Lady Arya told us that a dragon and Rider should think of themselves as one entity._

 _I wish we could tap in, but-_

 _Firnen probably wouldn't appreciate the distraction,_ Kiera agreed.

Seemingly eons later, the two conversants in the center stepped back and bowed to each other. Then Arya shocked Corrin (and Kiera) by kissing the stranger on the forehead, and still more by turning around with a smile and calling out something in the ancient language of which he caught about two words in three. Corrin and Kiera turned in unison to Firnen: _What did she say?!_

 _She said to bring food and drink for our guests,_ Firnen rumbled. _Follow me,_ he added, as he got to his feet again. Arya was walking back in their direction to fetch Támerlien, while the stranger returned to his dragon for his own weapons. Firnen struck out across the field straight for the red dragon, while Kiera followed at a more hesitant pace.

"Ebrithil," Corrin called out as soon as she was within earshot. The elf looked up at him querying. Corrin nodded towards their visitors, and asked, "Who are they?"

Arya gave him her trademark raised eyebrow. "You can't guess?"

"I have a theory, but I'd prefer the truth."

Firnen turned a great yellow eye on the both of them, and answered for her in his deep voice. _The red dragon is Thorn_ , he said to them, _and his Rider is Murtagh Kingkiller_.

 _Oh my_ , responded Kiera.

At Arya's direction, Corrin slid down out of the saddle, but not without some serious misgivings. Over the years since Galbaltorix's defeat, the stories of the Riders who fought against him had receded to almost mythical status, and there was no more complex myth than the Red Rider. Son of Morzan, brother of Eragon Shadeslayer, and of Galbaltorix both servant and betrayer.

"Are you sure it's safe for him to be here?" Corrin asked Arya. "I mean, he did fight on Galbaltorix's side for a long time…"

"Not so long for an elf. And he served Galbaltorix only because the king used his true name to force him." Arya looked sideways at him. "What do the Surdans say of him?"

Corrin shrugged. "Depends on who you talk to. The soldiers still curse his name, the craftsmen seem to just accept him as the product of unreliable storytelling, and the bards sing his praises, or the mad ones do anyway." He thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, the mad bards might be why the craftsmen view the stories as exaggerated."

"I don't doubt it," Arya laughed, "but the truth is as strange as anything a bard might come up with."

"Now that," said Murtagh, evidently catching this last sentence, "I can agree with." Corrin jumped, and looked at him with wide eyes, suddenly curious to see a human Rider for the first time.

It was an interesting experience. Corrin hadn't realized how he'd become used to the delicate and clean-shaven elves until he was shocked by the appearance of a fellow human. Murtagh was a good two handspans taller than him, and a bit broader in the shoulders. His dark hair was cut short, more or less neatly, and he wore a layer of stubble, as if he normally went clean-shaven but had neglected a razor for several days. The shape of his face was far stronger than the norm among the elves, and his eyes far more level, but when he turned his head, Corrin caught sight of a pointed ear tip, confirming that Murtagh had been a Rider long enough for the magic to alter him.

"Murtagh," Arya said, taking Corrin by the arm, "This is Corrin, our youngest Rider. Corrin, this is Murtagh Kingkiller."

"Ah, I suppose it was too much to hope you'd forget the title." The older Rider offered a gloved hand to Corrin, who took it gladly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, young Corrin; I'm glad to see the Riders gaining a few more members. Although gods help you if my brother is to be your teacher," he grinned.

Corrin smiled despite himself. "It's an honor to meet you," he replied, and added after a psychic nudge, reaching back to the impatient dragon who had moved her head towards him, "and this is Kiera, my dragon."

 _It is an honor to meet you, Murtagh-Thorns-Rider_ , Kiera interjected.

Murtagh bowed to her, and spoke in the ancient language: "An honor indeed, Skulblaka." Gesturing towards Thorn, he continued, "This is Thorn, with whom I am unfortunately stuck for eternity."

Thorn leaned down and shoved Murtagh with his nose. Corrin and Kiera tried very hard to maintain straight faces. Arya didn't even try, grinning as she caught Murtagh's arm to keep him from falling into Firnen. "Anyways," she managed, as Murtagh regained his footing, "I'm sure you both must be sick of travel fare. Fly with us back to Tialdarí: my people will show you a feast like none other in Alagaësia."

 _I look forward to it_ , chuckled Thorn.


	4. Chapter 4

Corrin and Kiera flew with their four elders, since Arya hadn't expressly ordered them to go back to studying. He and Kiera shared a constant stream of thoughts and impressions as they observed the two new strangers. Kiera was mostly focused on Thorn, only the second dragon she had ever seen in her lifetime, offering commentary on his flight patterns and his appearance. Corrin was far more focused on Murtagh, the first human Rider he had ever met, and the friendly but fragile camaraderie that he seemed to share with Arya.

Word traveled faster than the dragons at the pace they had chosen, so by the time all three Shur'tugal landed in the clearing before Tialdarí Hall, the elves had set up a table large enough to host elves, humans, and dragons alike and were beginning to set the table with tableware and food. Corrin dismounted and went to stand with Arya and Murtagh, who were standing between their two dragons as Arya pointed out something near the roof of the hall.

The feast lasted a long, long time. It could not have been past noon when the Riders left for Tialdarí, but elven revelry tended to meddle with a person's sense of time, and it was nearly evening before the conversation turned to more serious topics. At that point, the vast majority of the elves had drifted off to enjoy other pursuits of the city, and most of the remaining were crowded around the three dragons to lavish attention on them.

Arya, swirling faelnirv around and around her wood-grain cup, turned her head slightly to check that no one was in earshot. Corrin, the only one within said area, glanced up and met her gaze for a moment. Her catlike green eyes paused on his face, the moved on. "So, Murtagh," she began, "perhaps you can explain now why you are here?"

"Is it so hard to believe I simply wished to gift you my company?" Murtagh joked. Under Arya's trademark raised eyebrow, he relented, sipping his drink before he answered. "I want to go east and join Eragon." At that, Corrin sat up a little straighter in surprise, but Arya simply nodded as though this confirmed something for her. "More specifically," Murtagh continued, "Thorn is, I think, getting tired of the nomadic lifestyle, and he rather desperately wants to be around more of his own kind: he's never had extended contact with any dragon other than Galbatorix's Shruikan. We were hoping that you could give us directions to get to Eragon, since he's decided to maroon himself in some forsaken eastern roost instead of staying in the land he's protecting."

"I see," said Arya, placing her goblet down. "It seems to me as though we have a happy coincidence. Corrin here," she gestured towards the young Rider, "and his dragon were intended to fly to Eragon in about a week's time, but I've been apprehensive about sending him on such a long journey alone. I would be happy to tell you how to find Eragon, if you and Thorn would agree to escort Kiera and Corrin along the way."

Murtagh leaned his chair back so that he could look over to where Thorn was, then leaned forwards until all four chair legs had hit the ground again. "Thorn and I would be delighted," he murmured, winking at Corrin, who had started grinning without realizing it.

"Wonderful!" Arya smiled brightly. "My people will provision you, of course, and I can travel with you myself until Hedarth."

 _Wonderful_ , echoed Firnen, from his seat at the edge of the trees.

 ** _*dragons*dragons*dragons*_**

After that excitement, the days seemed to slip between Corrin's fingers, each passing faster than the one before in a haze of studying. He saw surprisingly little of Murtagh and Thorn in that time; Kiera finally got out of Firnen that a few of the older members of the elven race had requested to speak with them, so he was being introduced to the more important elven families by Arya. Their mentor herself seemed to be everywhere: one moment quizzing him on his language, the next conferring with Firnen on Kiera's progress, the next dashing back to Ellesméra.

Corrin and Kiera passed their respective tests on the ancient language the last day before they were to leave, and Arya gave both of them the rest of the day free. Corrin spent the first hour of this sitting on the edge of the cliff behind Oromis's hut, with Kiera's ochre-scaled head resting on the grass beside him. They had spent the last two weeks frantically preparing for their journey; only now did it truly come to them that they were about to leave everything they had ever known behind.

 _I feel as though I've only just grown used to Ellesméra,_ Corrin mentioned at length, _and now we're going into the unknown even more than when we left Surda._

 _I know,_ his dragon replied _. But we are Shur'tugal. We belong there, with the others like us. No one but another Rider or dragon can understand the bond we share or the trials we will face in our lifetimes._ Kiera shifted her head forwards until he could look down into her red eye.

Corrin sighed and looked out at the sky again. _But…_ he hesitated, trying to put words to what he felt. _But I love Alagaësia. I love Surda, sand and heat and all. I love the Empire, the grasslands and cities. I have even come to love Ellesméra. How can I, or you for that matter, leave all of that behind, when our home might need us?_

Kiera was silent for a while before she answered him _. I am home,_ she whispered, _as long as I am with you. And as for needing us; Alagaësia doesn't. Or at least, it doesn't need an untrained Rider and dragon. It needs the Shur'tugal that we can only become by going east. When we have been given the knowledge that we need to do_ good _in the world, then we_ will _come back. This is not goodbye forever._

They sat like that, Rider and dragon, for a long time. _Thank you, Kiera_ , he sighed.

 _Of course_ , she replied.


	5. Chapter 5

The two of them went walking in the city that evening, trying to soak in all the memories they could for when they left. Corrin felt as though Ellesméra had never been as mysterious or as magical as it was that night. The shadows beneath the great trees flickered with movement. Kiera spotted a flash of brindled fur dashing across their path, and many bright eyes watching from the leaves. Corrin noticed a silver-haired elf woman weaving together a window frame on the side of a house, singing softly to the living wood. Gentle lights occasionally floated through the canopy above, and neither dragon nor Rider could tell if they were magic or merely fireflies.

Through a gap in the trees later on, Corrin glimpsed a hut hunched beside a stream, carved all over with myriad patterns. An oddly grizzled elf sat leaning against the doorframe, whittling a chunk of wood. When he and Kiera paused, the whittler glanced up at them with shockingly blue eyes, then quickly ducked back down to his work, hiding his face. Corrin and Kiera let him be and walked on.

Finally, their path led to a place that they had seen only once before, a huge clearing, riddled with roots the size of tree trunks themselves, all spreading out from the largest tree they were ever likely to see.

The Menoa tree could make a dragon seem small, and was doing so now; Corrin and Kiera realized in the same instant that Firnen and Thorn were perched on a great root near the base of the tree, looking as small as songbirds beside the mass of living wood. Firnen, catching sight of them, lifted a wing to wave at them, an oddly humanoid gesture. Corrin vaulted into Kiera's saddle, and the two of them glided over to where the older dragons were.

Kiera's claws slipped on the bark the first time she put her weight down, so there were several seconds of undignified scrambling before she folded her wings and Corrin could look around again. Murtagh and Arya were both in their saddles, though Murtagh was leaning alarmingly far out to put a hand on an adjacent root. Guessing that he was trying to sense Linnëa, the elf woman whose intelligence had inhabited the tree for millennia, Corrin opted not to disturb him and caught Arya's eye.

"Do you mind if we join you?" he called over to her.

"Not at all," she replied, "in fact I was hoping we could bring you along. There are a few people I think you all should meet."

At length Murtagh pushed off of the tree root to glide back upright in his saddle. He waved desultorily to Corrin and Kiera, but they had no time for conversation before Firnen took off, spiralling up towards the distant branches. Corrin shrugged and leaned forwards in the saddle for balance as his dragon unfolded parchment-colored wings to either side of him.

It was a relatively short flight, and easy, the three dragons gliding across the leaves to a different part of the city. Firnen slipped through a tiny gap in the canopy with ease, but Thorn and Kiera had to stop and have a midair conference to figure the move out for themselves. Kiera finally managed it by turning sideways until her wings were nearly vertical, and side-slipping between the leaves. Corrin mostly just tried not to get a branch to the face.

When all of them had managed to land safely, Arya led them to a vine-draped tunnel grown from dogwood trees. She ducked inside, returning within moments with an elf woman in the worn leather smock of a smith. Corrin felt a pang suddenly, remembering his father wearing such a smock to work. The feeling faded quickly, however, when he looked closer at the woman by Arya's side.

She was, he thought, the oldest elf he had ever seen. Her face was scribed with a network of lines, her back was bent by centuries spent bent over her work, and her eyes were older than stone and terribly wise.

"Corrin, Murtagh, Thorn, Kiera," Arya smiled gently, "This is Rhunön, the greatest smith of our race. She forged the Rider's swords in ages past."

"Hmmph," grumbled the smith. Kiera snorted curiously.

Corrin bowed from the waist. Murtagh ttouched his fingers to his lips in the elven sign for greeting. The smith gave both of them only passing glances before she marched past them to stand before Kiera and Thorn. "So," she half-shouted up at Thorn, "You would be the third of that oathbreaker's stolen eggs, wouldn't you?"

 _Yes, Rhunön-elda, I am he_ , responded Thorn, far more calmly than Corrin would have been able to manage. Her abruptness was shocking from a member of the unceasingly polite elves, and it took Corrin a moment to realize that by "Oathbreaker," she meant Galbatorix.

"Hmmph," the smith grumbled again. "Well, you look more a fighter than a flyer, but I suppose that is good, for the life you have led. Sword," she demanded abruptly, snapping her fingers towards Murtagh without looking away from Thorn. Murtagh jumped, but reached up and grabbed the handle from over his shoulder, drawing it and flipping the hilt towards Rhunön in a practiced motion.

Rhunön nodded to herself, turning slightly to take the blade. "Scabbard as well, if you please," she added as an afterthought, already staring at the sword in her hands as though enthralled. She held it up with the point towards the heavens above her, and Corrin thought abruptly that she looked a creature from legend, standing there in the dying light that flickered off her hair and eyes and the iridescent sword before her. There was an odd reverence and an odd sadness in her eyes.

The moment faded after a heartbeat, and Rhunön began examining the sword more closely. She rotated it several different ways to examine the metal, ran her fingers over the edges, and tapped one fingernail against the blade, producing a pure ringing sound. She repeated a similar process with the scabbard that Murtagh handed to her, finally nodding and handing it back to him. "I'd say it is neither better nor worse than when I last saw it. It has caused much sorrow in the world, but it's a good sword, and it suits you far better than it did your brother. See that you use it wisely."

"Elrun ono, Rhunön-elda," Murtagh said, thanking her as she handed his weapon back to him. She waved him off, already turning her attention towards Corrin and Kiera, watching with mingled curiosity and apprehension from the side.

"You would be the new ones, I suppose?" she demanded, looking them over. Corrin swallowed and bobbed his head in agreement, too nervous to speak. Rhunön put her hands on her hips. "Werecat got your tongue, boy? The last two Riders Arya dragged me out to see couldn't stop talking. Overexcited little rabbits they were, even the Urgal boy, but at least they didn't seem craven."

The indignation of that last finally restored the power of speech to him. "I'm not craven either!" Corrin asserted in affront, folding his arms across his chest. He filed away what Rhunön had said about other Riders for later consideration: it was the first he had heard of his two fellow students. To his shock, Rhunön smiled wryly.

" No, indeed. I should have known no dragon would choose a cowardly Rider. Who are you, then?" This last was addressed past him to Kiera, who answered for herself.

 _I am Kiera,_ she told the smith. Rhunön walked over to stand at her shoulder, peering at her scales. _Rhunön-elda?_ queried the dragon nervously.

"Good color," mentioned the smith to no one in particular. "Rare, though. I've forged fewer swords with your coloring, Skulblaka, so let us hope one of the blades in the east suits your Rider." She slapped Kiera's shoulder with an approving air and walked back to stand at Arya's side. "I should think the Riders are rather wanted in Alagaesia at the moment, so mind that you don't take forever coming back, eh?" And without waiting for an answer or further conversation, she marched back through the dogwood tunnel to her forge.

The six of them all stood in silence for a while, processing the entirety of that short but strange encounter. Arya broke the silence finally. "Rhunön is… an acquired taste. She comes from a time where courtesy was less important to our race."

 _I can tell_ , commented Thorn, an edge of humor coloring his thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

The three Riders and their dragons walked back through Ellesmera, occasionally being greeted by elves in their path but most often walking in their own company. At length, Arya led them all to the base of the immensely tall tree where she and Firnen lived. "Would any of you care to join me?" she asked. "I've been meaning to contact Eragon about sending you, and I should probably notify a few other leaders in Alagaesia too." Murtagh shrugged and said nothing. Corrin exchanged glances with Kiera and nodded.

The three of them disdained the stairs, instead riding up on their dragon's backs. Corrin dismounted into a set of rooms that he had seen once or twice before, crafted expertly from the living wood of the tree. The dragons all perched on the edges of the rooms which opened outward, while Murtagh and Corrin accompanied Arya to the desk and mirror on one wall.

Arya shooed Murtagh out of view for the first contact, then cast the spell which connected this mirror to several others across Alagaesia. The mirror rippled and then cleared to reveal a man wearing the gold crown of the King of Surda. He glanced up and started at seeing them. "Lady Arya," he murmured politely, "You honor me. Is all well?"

"Indeed," Arya responded calmly. "Corrin and his dragon have completed the first part of their training. They leave to go to Eragon on the morrow."

"Ah!" Orrin exclaimed, his eyes switching to Corrin's image in the mirror. "I am glad to hear it! You're the first Surdan dragon rider, young man; we all look forward to your successes."

"Thank you, sir." Corrin had only met his former sovereign in passing, but rumor held him to be a good man, if a mite fond of drink. It was both pleasant and humbling to have such a man concerned with his future. Orrin exchanged a few more pleasantries with Arya, but the papers visible in the mirror made it clear that he was occupied, and Arya soon ended the spell.

"Well," she said, "thats one. I believe I will leave Orik and Nar Garzhvog for a later time, so…" she bit her lip and then cast the spell again. This time, the image in the mirror was of an empty room, but within moments a woman with incredibly dark skin hurried into view and to her chair.

"Queen Nasuada," drawled Arya, and Corrin saw Murtagh move out of the corner of his eye.

"Queen Arya," replied Nasuada dryly. "How can I help you?"

"I have two pieces of news which I think will interest you. First is that Corrin and Kiera are leaving tomorrow for Eragon; their training with me is finished."

The transformation when she smiled rendered Nasuada truly breathtaking for a moment. "Oh, but that's _wonderful_!" she exclaimed. "Congratulations, Corrin!"

"Thank you, my lady," he smiled back.

When Nasuada had returned her attention to Arya, the elf took a deep breath and continued, "Additionally, Murtagh and Thorn are here in Ellesmera." Nasuada paused, her eyes going blank for a moment before she blinked and then shook herself a little. Arya watched her carefully as she said, "I intend to have them escort Corrin and Kiera to Eragon, since they wished to join him there anyways."

"I see," murmured Nasuada, nodding to herself. "I think that will be a good place for both of them." She hesitated, biting her lip briefly. "May I… May I speak with Murtagh?"

Arya was relieved of the need to answer this by Murtagh walking over and leaning forwards until he was visible in the mirror. "Lady Nasuada," he greeted blandly. Corrin, already sensing some of the subtext from the dragons, edged his way out of the frame while Nasuada was distracted, expecting some sort of drama. Arya stayed right where she was, watching both humans with amused green eyes.

To Corrin's surprise, Nasuada smiled gently. "I should have known you'd be unhappy being introduced like a normal person. How are you? And Thorn?"

"Better," Murtagh said succinctly, "but Thorn tires of the nomadic lifestyle, and I am curious to see this new breed of Riders, so Lady Arya has arranged for us to go with Corrin and Kiera."

"I wish you luck, then." Nasuada nodded and leaned back in her chair. "I'm sure training young dragons can hardly be boring, at least. Speaking of training, the next time any of you talks to Eragon, tell him to hurry up a bit. There's no end of dissent in the Empire, and I could really use a few Riders for enforcement."

"I'll tell him," interjected Arya. Nasuada bid them farewell, and Arya ended the connection. Corrin pretended not to see the way Murtagh's eyes lingered where the image of the Queen had been. Arya stood up from her chair to pace a bit, and only then noticed that Corrin was no longer standing near the mirror. "What are you doing, Corrin?" she laughed, spying him standing against the wall several feet away. "Come back here, we have one more person to talk to." At a mental nudge from Kiera, Corrin sheepishly moved back to his place, as Arya cast the communication spell a third time.

This time the room in view was carved of white marble, with many archways leading out. Corrin jumped when he saw the person sitting before the mirror. This being had the slim proportions of an elf, but was covered head to toe in blue-black fur, and when he lifted his head, Corrin saw that his eyes were unnervingly yellow like a bird of prey. "Arya Dröttning," he said in a low, lilting accent. "Atra esterní ono thelduin." Those yellow eyes slid from Arya to Corrin to Murtagh, but he offered no comment on her companions.

"Blödhgarm," Arya acknowledged smoothly, switching easily to the ancient language. "Atra du evarínya ono varda. Could you fetch Eragon for me?" The strange, furred elf nodded silently and then stood with the grace of a feline predator. He exited the frame of the mirror and the three Riders in the treehouse at Ellesmera waited on events many leagues away.

Finally, a man with brown hair and brown eyes dropped into the chair. Corrin was surprised by how young the leader of the Riders was, and by the distinctly elven cast to his features. Arya had told him some of the story of the last Agaeti Blodhren, but he had underestimated the change. "Arya," Eragon greeted in a clear, tenor voice, touching his fingers to his lips in the elven greeting. Then his gaze switched to her right and his eyes widened. "Murtagh!"

"Evening, brother," Murtagh grinned, clearly enjoying the reaction.

Arya began curtly while Eragon was spluttering. "Murtagh and Thorn joined us in Ellesmera about a week ago, and they've agreed to escort Corrin and Kiera on their journey. The four of them leave tomorrow morning."

"I see," said Eragon, regaining his composure. "Well, we'd be very happy to have you join us, Murtagh, and as for Corrin," here he spared a friendly smile for the young Rider, "We eagerly await him and his dragon. It's been a long time since our last new faces arrived."

"He's raring to go," said Arya, "and Firnen and I have taught them everything they'll need to start your part of their training."

"Excellent," Eragon responded. "We'll expect you four in a few weeks, then?"

"Or sooner," said Corrin, thinking of the many hours of Kiera's endurance training.

"Alright, then," Eragon confirmed.

"Oh, one more thing," interjected Arya. "Nasuada's been having trouble with rogue dissenting groups. She said to tell you to hurry up training the Riders."

Eragon rolled his eyes. "Remind her that unless she wants inexperienced Riders making a mess of things, I need to _finish their training_ before I can send them."

"Remarkable lack of faith in your students, Eragon," commented Murtagh.

Eragon scoffed and ended the connection.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Corrin watched the clearing before Tialdarí recede into nothingness, as Thorn, Firnen, and Kiera flew together towards Hedarth, the easternmost settlement in Alagaësia. The Edda River met the Az Ragni on the flanks of that town, and it was the unnamed river that combined them that would guide Corrin and Murtagh to the Dragon Riders.

The three dragons flew straight there, dawn to dusk each day, and in the evening of the fourth day they reached Hedarth, a tiny cluster of buildings huddled on the edge of the flowing water. Corrin looked east and could see nothing but yellowed grass, endlessly stretching until the horizon met the blue sky in the distance. The vastness of the space made him swallow. Surda was hardly a mountainous country, but the deserts and fields had never seemed as empty or as distant as this place. The town itself seemed cowed by the sheer space of the land, with the tiny buildings crouched low to the ground and all clustered close around the docks by the river, and the dragons and their Riders landed nearby in silence.

Arya went into the town to get the remainder of their provisions; Corrin waited for her on a slight rise of ground, looking out over the river and the uninhabited plain beyond. _This_ , he thought to himself, _this is the edge of all that I have ever known. When I leave this place, I leave all of Alagaësia behind me._

 _I would not_ , whispered Kiera, _have wanted to travel this empty land alone._

Corrin heard footsteps, and a moment later Murtagh stopped just to his left. "Does no one live in this entire plain except the dwarves of Hedarth?" the older Rider asked, frowning out at the waving grasses.

Corrin drew on his lessons without thinking. "There are a few nomadic tribes further out, but they avoid contact with this outpost. Other than them, there's nothing but plants and animals, as far as you can travel on foot."

 _How is it,_ mused Thorn, _that no dragon ever came this way to explore farther than you can get on foot?_

 _The Riders and their dragons were busy keeping the peace here,_ replied Firnen _. And the wild dragons may have come this way, but none cared to share their findings with others._

"That seems rather selfish," Corrin commented, frowning.

 _The wild dragons were different from those of us you have known, Corrin_. Firnen blinked great yellow eyes meditatively. _They were wilder, less civilized, and they cared little for scholarship or history, nor, truthfully, for the other races._

"Indeed," Murtagh added, "and in the end there can't be that much more to this land than there is to the plains of the Empire, if it's as empty as you say."

 _Well,_ Firnen hummed, _if nothing else, there are the Riders._

No one had an answer to that.

 _ ***dragons*dragons*dragons***_

They stood in silence until Arya returned, with two dwarves in tow to help her carry the extra saddlebags. She walked to where Corrin and Murtagh stood and joined them so that they all made a line, facing east. Corrin thought to himself that for the first time in the entirety of their acquaintance, Arya looked tired.

"Do you wish to spend the night in Hedarth, or will you leave now?" Arya inquired neutrally. Corrin turned his head to look at Murtagh, who was wearing an odd, bitter smile.

"I very much doubt that I would be welcome in a dwarvish settlement," he chuckled, but with no humor in his voice. "What do you think, Corrin?"

Corrin jumped, not expecting his opinion to be needed. "Well, Kiera and I can hardly stay there if you and Thorn can't," he said.

 _I don't see why not,_ interjected Kiera rather tartly.

The serious mood broke for a moment as all three Riders laughed and turned towards her. "It is polite," Corrin informed her, "to not leave one's companions to face the elements alone."

 _Well, anyways_ , Kiera continued unperturbed, _we can probably manage at least a few more hours of travel before sunset._

Corrin sighed, but a quick glance at the sun revealed her to be right. It suddenly struck him that this was it: the moment when he and Kiera left their mentors and Alagaesia behind. By sunset familiar lands would be behind them, and they would not return for a long, long time.

Arya sighed suddenly, and stepped to face Murtagh. "I wish you luck and good fortune in the East, Murtagh." She kissed him once on the brow, and then stepped away, "Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Atra du evarínya ono varda," Murtagh replied seriously, returning the elven blessing. Arya nodded and then turned towards Corrin, who was shocked to see a faint glimmer of tears hovering in her eyes.

"Ebrithil," he began, unsure what he was supposed to say, but she held up a hand before he spoke.

"Firnen and I have taught you everything we are bound to. We are your masters no more," she told him, studying his face with emerald-green eyes. "I have no doubt that you will be a great Rider someday, Corrin: learn swiftly and well, for we all need you, more than you know." She leaned forwards and kissed his brow as she had Murtagh's. "Go with our blessings, and be safe."

Corrin tried to respond, but found his throat choked by emotion. Firnen saved him, leaning his great head down to touch his nose to Corrin's forehead. _May your journey be safe and swift,_ he rumbled in his deep voice.

Corrin could summon only two words of the ancient language in response to their kindness; "Elrun ono," he whispered. _Thank you._

Firnen nodded, and repeated the gesture for Murtagh as Arya bid farewell to Thorn and Kiera. There was a finality to it, far more than there had been when leaving Ellesméra. That had been the beginning of a great journey, an adventure; this was the ending of their time with the elf queen and her dragon, and their time in Alagaësia too.

As he strapped himself into the saddle, Corrin could feel the same sadness emanating from Kiera, and the combination of both of their sorrow weighed on him terribly. He raised a hand to Arya and Firnen where they stood on the rise above the river, and then Kiera and Thorn were beating up into the blue sky, the setting sun at their backs. When they leveled out, Corrin turned in his saddle, squinting against the sun, to look back at where Arya and Firnen stood.

 _We will come back someday,_ Kiera comforted him.

 _Yes,_ he answered, _but we are not there now._

Arya and Firnen stood there for as long as he could see them. It occurred to him then what a beautiful and sad tableau they made: The last Shur'tugal in Alagaësia, watching as their companions flew away into the distance, and left them behind.


	8. Chapter 8

The days of travel inched by. Corrin grew used to the flat horizons and whispering grasses, but the oppressive quiet continued to bother him, as did the sense of emptiness. He could not converse aloud with Murtagh while the dragons flew, and Kiera and Thorn were too focused on the work of flying to hold extended conversations. So they all flew in nearly-unbroken silence, with the blue vault of the sky above and the endless fields of grass to all sides.

The first night, the same day after leaving Arya and Firnen in Hedarth, they had made camp beside the river. Corrin had been unable to summon any conversation, too emotionally drained by the events of the day to chat idly. Murtagh had not offered any attempt at communication, instead starting a small fire around which the two dragons curled. Corrin had helped as much as he was able with dinner, but he ate quickly and soon rolled himself up in a spare cloak, to sleep beside his dragon. In the morning, Murtagh roused him just after day break, for a quick breakfast of cold food before they continued flying.

That second night, however, Kiera and Thorn had to eat, so the two of them deposited their Riders on a little knoll of land within sight of the river, and lifted off again. Even in the numb state that had overtaken Corrin, he smiled to hear Kiera's glee at the chance to learn Thorn's hunting style. When the wind from their wings had ceased to buffet their camp, Murtagh went to work organizing the fire, just as he had the last night. Tonight, however, he did not immediately reach for their cooking supplies. Instead, he checked that the ring of stones around the fire would keep it from burning the plains down, and then walked off into the waist-high grass around the little cleared area where Corrin sat, headed vaguely towards the river.

Corrin watched him go with curiosity and no little unease, but he came back within a few minutes, holding two long pieces of driftwood, sanded smooth by the incessant rush of the water. Corrin's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What are those for?" he asked in confusion.

"Something Rhunön said has been bothering me," Murtagh responded. "It was that comment about sword colors, when she was looking at Kiera. Every Rider in the old days had a Rider's sword, and it got me to wondering whether anyone had trained you in the art of the blade yet."

Corrin perked up immediately. "Well," he said thoughtfully, getting to his feet, "I learned a little bit in Aberon from my uncle, and before Lady Arya decided to send Kiera and I east, I could go to the training fields in the north of the city to learn swordplay if I did particularly well in my lessons."

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. "Better than I had expected," he commented, and then tossed one driftwood stick across the fire at him with no warning whatsoever. Corrin caught it in his right hand, taking a moment to get used to the balance. Murtagh nodded at him and continued, "Well, the only way to get better at swordwork is practice, and if you want a sparring partner, I was trained by one of the finest swords in the Empire..."

Corrin's face must have practically glowed, because Murtagh looked at him and laughed. "On guard, then!" the dark-haired Rider yelled, pointing his driftwood stick at Corrin with an imperious manner. Corrin grinned and jumped forward.

Murtagh parried his stab and countered with an easy swing; Corrin jumped aside and aimed for Murtagh's shoulder. Their mock swords made a clacking sound as they collided, a pleasant reprieve from the susurration of the grasslands. Murtagh blocked a few more blows, then skillfully slipped Corrin's next blow aside just far enough to land a hit on his shoulder. "Good!" Murtagh exclaimed. "You don't seem to be doing anything horribly wrong; move your feet more," and he attacked again.

This went on for a while. He could tell that Murtagh was going easy on him, but Corrin was holding his own at this level, and the older Rider's advice proved invariably helpful. After a few rounds, Corrin was confident enough to turn some of his attention back to Murtagh's words. "So," he panted, barely blocking a sly cut, "one of the finest swords in the Empire?"

"Aye. His name was Tornac," Murtagh answered readily enough. "He was my mentor and near enough my only friend when I was younger. He died when the two of us tried to escape Uru'baen." His face tightened for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Corrin said hesitantly, jumping away from a swing at his feet. "Did- did the escape fail?"

Murtagh shrugged, his expression clearing. "No, I managed to escape on my own. Then I wandered quite a lot of the Empire, got into untold troubles without Tornac there to point out my idiocy, and ended up naming my warhorse after him." He paused, his brow furrowing. "You know, come to think of it, I'm not sure what happened to that horse," Murtagh mused, leaning away from a clumsy overhand swipe. "Last I saw him was when the Varden took me prisoner, and then I left without him."

"Why would the Varden take you prisoner?" Corrin demanded. "You couldn't have been a Rider yet."

"No," allowed Murtagh, "but I was the son of Morzan, one of their greater enemies, and I refused to let Ajihad's magicians search my mind, so they couldn't be sure that I wasn't a spy for Galbator-ACK!" That last was yelped with more surprise than pain, as one of Corrin's blows slid down the chunk of driftwood in Murtagh's hand and struck his fingers. To Corrin's surprise, Murtagh burst into laughter.

"HAH! I'm too used to Za'roc!" he managed between howls of mirth. "I was expecting the blow to land on a crossguard, HAH!" Murtagh dropped his driftwood sword and doubled over laughing.

Corrin grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry?" he managed, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't be!" said Murtagh, still smiling as he straightened. "It was a well-placed blow, the kind that wins a fight." He scooped his mock weapon off the ground and pointed it towards Corrin. "Again!" he cried.

They continued in this manner until a familiar mind interrupted. _What exactly are you two doing?_ Thorn inquired dryly, circling down to land.

"Sparring," replied Murtagh innocently.

 _Why?_ Thorn landed and examined their camp with a ruby-red eye.

"Because sparring," Murtagh insisted, as though it should have been obvious.

Thorn turned to look back at Kiera and announced in the mental version of a stage whisper, _My bets are on your Rider_. Corrin could swear he winked, too.

"Augh!" Murtagh cried in mock affront, dropping his driftwood weapon. "Faithless creature!" Thorn responded by blowing a neat smoke ring onto Murtagh's head. The older man stormed out of the camp, calling "Faithless! Faithless, I tell you!," over his shoulder in a tearful falsetto. Even Kiera hummed amusement, and Corrin was by that point lying on the ground, laughing himself into tears.

Even in the empty plains, it was hard for the numbness to reach him after that.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Quick note: School is starting back up again in about a week and updates are going to come less often and at weird intervals. I'll try to keep writing as often as possible but I'm probably not going to have regular free time for a while. I apologize in advance.**_

Sparring before dinner became a habit after that second night, whether the dragons went hunting or not. Corrin was still no match for Murtagh, and often woke the next morning sore, but he had hours in the saddle to recover and the chance to improve his swordsmanship was something to look forward to during the monotonous days of flying. Murtagh too seemed to enjoy the respite from his own thoughts, and he was endlessly helpful in correcting Corrin's novice mistakes.

A little more than a week into their journey, midway through the day's flying time, Thorn abruptly banked to the right and angled out over the plains. Kiera hesitantly followed his lead. Corrin sat up as tall as he could in the saddle, but he still couldn't see what Thorn was flying towards until the red male pulled into a tight circle, half-hovering as he looked down. Kiera tilted her wings in a maneuver which allowed Corrin to see the cluster of horse-mounted humans, all shouting in a tongue which he didn't know.

They were surprisingly few, no more than thirty all together, and only a few more horses. They were clad in concealing leather garments, and upon closer examination Corrin caught sight of a few with what looked like ivory decoration. All of them were clearly terrified by the dragon's approach, and after studying them for a few moments, Thorn and Kiera wheeled back towards the river. Corrin turned in his saddle to watch them, and observed the nomads turning as a group and galloping south, in the opposite direction of the dragons.

He mused on the sighting for the rest of the day, occasionally consulting with Kiera. That night, after Murtagh had roundly defeated his attempts at swordwork, he mentioned it over dinner, curious to hear the older Shur'tugal's reactions..

"You know," he began, swallowing a mouthful of food. "A lot of the nomadic tribes back home traded wares in Aberon. And the general wisdom is that the most important thing for them is water."

Murtagh raised an eyebrow at him. "What's your point?"

"Well," Corrin waved his hand towards the riverbank. "The easiest source of water for miles around is right here, but we've never seen any of them except for that tiny group. How are they surviving? All things need water to live."

Murtagh ate in thoughtful silence for a minute before he responded. "They could have wells, out away from the river, or a village or meeting place of some sort a few days away, that sends outriders to bring water to them. It would be difficult to grow any crops with the latter approach, though."

"Which leads into another question," Corrin said, curiosity piqued. "What do they eat? What plants grow out here that humans can use? There's mostly just this grass, and a few animals that survive on it."

 _Keira and I have been eating from those giant herds of antelope,_ Thorn contributed. _They have very sharp horns, but they do not seem to know how to use them. They might be safe prey for a nomadic society, and there are plenty of them._

Corrin frowned. "Are the horses fast enough to catch them?"

 _If not they might be eating the horses_ , suggested Kiera, blinking a red eye at him.

"There were not," Murtagh said decisively, "enough horses in that group to regularly cull them without cutting into the breeding stock."

 _If we assume for argument's sake,_ Thorn mused, _that they have the village-and-outrider setup, or the village and wells, then it is possible that they keep a larger group of horses out there that can support the dietary needs of a tribe._

"A herding people," Corrin laughed. He had a sudden vision of one of the proud, dark-skinned warriors in Surda chasing after belligerent sheep, and suppressed his hilarity with difficulty. Kiera caught the stray thought and huffed amusement at him.

Murtagh nodded. "And if they have a village or meeting place by a well or two, that might also allow them to support some crop growth."

"It might not be able to support that many people though…" Corrin bit his lip as he thought about it. How long would a horse or two feed the group they'd seen for? He had no reference, but it couldn't have been very long..

Murtagh sighed. "If they had the capability to feed 'that many people', they would probably have developed an organized civilization instead of isolated nomadic tribes. And in one aspect Corrin is quite correct: they can't do either without water." He gestured to the riverbank as Corrin had. "My guess is that there just aren't all that many of them, and that's why we haven't seen anyone."

Corrin nodded agreement, his curiosity mostly sated, and the conversation lapsed back into silence. He glanced around as he finished the last few bites of food. The wind had started blowing out of the east without him noticing, and the hissing of the grass and the crackling of the fire mingled into a pleasant rush of noise. And then woven into that noise was something else.

Corrin looked up and out at the night as the first, faint strains of music became audible. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Murtagh's head lift as well. It was faint and far away: he could barely hear it over the ambience and it was drowned out entirely anytime the wind picked up. But what he could hear was a high, sweet song, that had to be an instrument because no voice sounded like that. The melody was slow and lilting and maybe a little sad, and all four sat in silence until it faded back into the night.

Corrin blinked and felt as though he was rising out of deep water. He shook himself and then looked at the moon and jumped. "It's late," he said blankly. Murtagh tipped his head back to look at the moon and made some noise of agreement, getting to his feet to bank the fire.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Thorn is a drama queen. There, I said it.**_

Just short of two weeks into their journey, they overflew the outlet where the river they had followed for days emptied into a lake that had to be miles wide, from the look of it.

Corrin had begun dozing away his time in the saddle several days ago, attempting anything to relieve the endless boredom of the flight hours, and he might have missed the sight completely, if not for the sequence of events that occurred as they crossed over the shore.

Upon reaching the edge of the lake, and having confirmed that she could not see the other side, Kiera had tilted her wings forwards to descend. Corrin roused enough at this to look at the lake, check the position of the sun, and agree that they probably could not cross the lake before nightfall. One of the first rules of flight that Firnen had taught the two of them was that they should not take chances. Crossing an unknown body of water with sunset approaching offered the possibility that Kiera would have nowhere to land, and then they would really be in trouble.

Corrin didn't realize anything was wrong until Kiera leveled off with a jolt, and he looked up to see that Thorn had not joined them in descending.

Kiera beat her way back up to Thorn's altitude. Corrin could feel her confusion mingling with the nervousness of the unknown factor they faced in the form of the lake. He reached out with his mind towards Murtagh once they were within range..

 _I don't know either,_ Murtagh told the two of them. _Thorn, there is a lake._

 _I know,_ the red dragon answered quietly. _I think we should keep going._

Corrin was close enough now to see Murtagh scowl. _Why?_ The red Rider demanded.

 _Because we are close, very close_ , Thorn rumbled, and then added when Murtagh seemed ready to argue, _Trust me._ Murtagh ran an impatient hand through his hair and looked over at the other Shur'tugal.

 _I am not too tired yet_ , Kiera allowed. _I think I can manage it, as long as I can sleep for a while afterwards._

Corrin bit his lip and looked up at Murtagh. "She says she can do it," he called over. Thorn picked up the pace of his wing beats, and Kiera summoned her strength and matched his speed.

The lake below them darkened from blue to black as the sun sank below the horizon. Corrin anxiously tracked the slow decay of the light, though he tried to keep his nerves from leaking into Kiera's awareness. As the sky grew darker and darker around the two dragons, that anxiety increased tenfold. He thanked the gods that there was at least a half-moon to lend some light, but he had difficulty seeing anything below: the moon was at the wrong angle to reflect more than a few sparks off of the water. So the two dragons and their Riders flew in silence and darkness, only able to make out each other's location in the darkness.

Corrin could not have guessed to the nearest hour how long they had flown when Kiera spoke up again. _I can see the edge of the lake,_ she told him, her thoughts strangely tense. _There is a red light there._

 _Oh,_ he said, his own mind slow from hours of lassitude. _What?_ He looked up, suddenly registering her words. The red light was there, glinting slightly off the water some distance ahead and down. He also noticed a large space in the sky directly ahead where the stars were obscured by something. He strained his eyes, trying to identify it, and guessed that Murtagh was doing the same by the older Rider's posture.

All four Shur'tugal saw the wash of blue fire as it flickered into existence, and all of them were still staring when the mental shout reached them. _Thorn!_ cried a female voice, flung far ahead of its owner to reach them.

 _Saphira!_ Thorn roared in return, and loosed a rippling band of red flames before them.

Kiera and Corrin shared one moment of pure relief, just between the two of them. Not even glee or star-struck terror, only the knowledge that their journey was ended for now. Then it dawned in a wash of energy that they were there, in the land of Riders and dragons at last. Thorn was ahead, throwing all his strength into his flight. Kiera roared and followed him, and Corrin threw back his head and howled their delight to the stars.

They were still miles away from the other dragons, and it took a good ten minutes for the two parties to meet. Corrin realized quickly that the dark mass blocking the stars was really the beginning of a mountain range, due east from the lake. The moon was casting enough light by now that he could look over Kiera's shoulder and watch the fields of wild grass go flying by below her wings. He felt giddy with happiness, both his and Kiera's, and by the time he could make out the other dragons his cheeks hurt from smiling.

He counted them up in his mind. In the lead was a lithe silver, glittering in the moonlight like a polished blade. Behind them was a blue the size of Thorn who could only be Saphira, and a broad-shouldered grey like smoke. All three were winging their way towards Thorn and Kiera as fast as their wings could carry them.

 _Four,_ corrected Kiera. She had to direct his vision up, and even then he could only see the slightest glint of light off scales. This fourth dragon was a shadow in the night, most visible where his wings blotted out the stars.

When they reached each other all six dragons began to circle about each other in a great ring, with Thorn and Kiera on the inner side of the circle. The dragons roared a welcome, and Corrin felt a multitude of minds touch the borders of his own, radiating welcome and laughter and joy at their arrival. On Saphira's back, her Rider lifted his sword high in salute, and Corrin saw Murtagh lift Za'roc to return it. Kiera roared into the night and five voices answered her

The mental voices receded after a minute, and the dragons wheeled as one, with Saphira leading the way back to the mountains. As they passed between two foothills, Corrin and Kiera saw their destination: a monstrously large courtyard, that seemed to be carved of white marble in the moonlight, on a relatively flat spur of the mountain that loomed behind it.

The court was big enough that each dragon had room to spare when landing: even Thorn and Saphira looked small by comparison. As the dragons touched down, slim figures emerged from the roofed colonnade around the courtyard, darting among wings and tails with the speed and grace that Corrin had learned to associate with elves. Corrin loosened the straps on his saddle and slid down Kiera's side to the ground. His boots landed solidly on the stone of the Riders Court.

 _ **I'm thinking of taking the prologue with Arya down, as it turns out it doesn't add much to the story. Any opinions in the comments would be welcome.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**I've decided not to remove the prologue after all, so thank you to floreloyx and everyone else who reviewed to talk me out of it. If I ever have free time again, I might go back and rewrite it, but not delete. School has started in earnest for me, so I'll be updating much less often, but I'm hoping I'll still have time to write, so, fingers crossed. Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed so far! The commentary has been really helpful.**_

As Kiera folded her wings, Corrin glanced around the great courtyard. He registered Saphira and her Rider moving purposefully towards Thorn, whose Rider was still in the saddle. Even as Corrin watched, Eragon waved an arm to get the gesture to someone across the courtyard, and Corrin turned to see the silver and the gray following their Riders towards himself and Kiera. He swallowed nervously, suddenly unsure of how to interact with them.

The silver was walking with a figure that Corrin guessed to be human, with short-cropped black hair that he impatiently brushed from his eyes as he jogged towards Corrin and Kiera. A ways further back were the broad-shouldered gray and his Rider, and Corrin could tell even at a distance that the Rider was an Urgal, probably even a Kull. The Urgal and his dragon were gaining on the silver, but the human Rider broke into a sprint once he had ducked past two elves moving towards Thorn. Kiera lifted her head to a position above Corrin's shoulder and they watched what he assumed to be their fellow students approach.

The dark-haired human practically skidded to a halt in front of Corrin, and before he could say a word, the other Rider had seized his shoulders and swiftly kissed him on both cheeks. When he held Corrin at arm's length, Corrin realized that "he" was actually a sharp-faced young woman: the leggings and short hair had fooled him.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin, Argetlam," she said, grinning at his shocked expression, and released him to touch her fingers to her lips in the elven greeting.

Corrin gaped at her a moment, then received a sharp mental nudge from Kiera that knocked him into motion. "Atra du evarinya ono varda," he replied, and returned the gesture, frantically marshaling his knowledge of the ancient language, rusty after two weeks of speaking the human tongue to Murtagh.

He jumped when the Kull appeared beside her, not having noticed the Urgal Rider also sprinting to join the conversation. The 7-foot creature spoke the ancient language with a surprising lack of accent, and Corrin was relieved to find that he understood without having to stop and translate. "We have been waiting for you a long time, little brother," the taller Rider rumbled. "Began to think you and your dragon had gotten lost." Corrin smiled hesitantly and shrugged.

The human girl chuckled and the Kull mad a deep _ruk-ruk_ sound that Corrin guessed to be laughter. "Might I have your name, silent one?" the human asked insouciantly.

"Corrin," he answered, reminded of a similar question from Rhunön. "I'm Corrin," there was a snort and a rush of hot air on his neck and he hastily added, "and this is Kiera, my dragon."

"Honored to meet you, bright one," rumbled the Kull.

"And you as well, little brother," the human said, nodding at Corrin. She gestured to herself. "I am Leah Gemmasdaughter, Rider of Thuviel; he's the silver. This alarming creature is Varog, our first Urgal Rider. His dragon is Galzra-"

"The gray, by process of elimination," Corrin finished for her. "I am honored to meet you."

A large, fawn-brown eye, edged by silver scales, appeared between the two Riders. _The honor is ours,_ said the silver in a clear tenor. _I am Thuviel the Second._

"Yes, dear," sighed Leah. "I already introduced you and Galzra, you know."

 _Yes_ , he agreed, _but you forgot to say that I am the Second of my Name_. Corrin stifled a smile behind his hand as Varog made the _ruk-ruk_ sound again.

 _Oh well_ , said a slightly deeper voice, _I'm sure our newcomers will forgive the misstep._ The gray pointed his muzzle at Kiera. _And you are?_

 _Kiera,_ she answered determinedly.

 _And you?_ he continued, swiveling to look down at Corrin.

"He is Corrin," answered Varog.

 _And I am Galzra_ , the grey announced grandly. _There, now we are introduced._

"Come on," Leah said, inclining her head towards the great blue dragon. "Ebrithil Eragon is most anxious to meet you both." Corrin nodded, placing one hand on the scales of Kiera's shoulder as the group moved across the courtyard.

 _ ***dragons*dragons*dragons***_

Corrin and Kiera both halted abruptly when the blue-scaled head of their new teacher swung down to examine them. Saphira looked Corrin up and down with a glittering blue eye, and then blinked and shifted so that she could see Kiera more closely. _Hmmm_ , she rumbled. _Hello, young ones._

 _Atra esterni ono thelduin, Bjartskular,_ Kiera replied politely for both of them.

The figure of Saphira's Rider ducked around a blue-scaled leg to stand before Corrin. Their new teacher was a few fingers shorter than Murtagh, with brown eyes set in a face that was oddly balanced between elven and human, and curly, brown hair that had been cut short. Corrin noted that he wore his scabbard at the hip instead of over the shoulder.

Eragon grinned at him. "Corrin, Kiera," he greeted in the human tongue, nodding to both of them, "welcome to the Rider's Court!"

"Thank you, Ebrithil," Corrin answered in the ancient language, touching his lips in the elven greeting. Eragon returned the gesture, looking pleased.

"I assume you've been introduced to Leah and Varog already? Excellent. This is Saphira, although you probably knew that already, and the black dragon over there is Shruikan, Saphira's-"

"Shruikan?!" Murtagh's thunderstruck voice interrupted him, drifting over from somewhere to their left, behind the bulk of Saphira's body.

 _Yes_ , Saphira replied firmly. _Shruikan, my son._

Corrin's brow wrinkled. "I thought… Lady Arya said that only two eggs had hatched for Riders in the last five years."

"She was perfectly correct," Eragon confirmed. "Shruikan is a wild dragon. Our _only_ wild dragon, at the moment." On that cue, everyone looked to the side at where the fourth dragon was sitting sphinx-like on the stone. He looked back at all of them with an unblinking eye that was a shade deeper yellow than Firnen's.

"Ah," Corrin said, just to fill the silence. "I see."

Saphira snorted. _Yes, I'm sure._

"I admit, we weren't expecting you four for another few days," continued Eragon easily. "You must have done some hard flying, especially tonight: are any of you hungry? I think Calarel is still in what passes for our kitchen, and the remainder of the dragon's dinner is in the forest: Saphira knows where."

 _I would like something to eat, if it isn't too much trouble,_ Kiera whispered, and Corrin could feel the depths of her exhaustion hovering around the edges of her thoughts.

 _You are too tired to fly there,_ Thuviel interjected firmly, unfolding his wings. _I will go and bring food, for both of you._ He leapt into the air and was off on a flash of metallic scales.

 _Bring me some too!_ Galzra called after him belatedly.

"Get it yourself!" Varog growled at him. Corrin tentatively identified his tone as teasing, but it was hard to tell. "After all, you've done nothing but lounge since the sun went down! And don't think I've forgotten the _four deer_ you had this morning."

Corrin smiled, Eragon chuckled, and Leah laughed aloud and moved over to join the two men in the space before Saphira. Galzra and Varog continued to bicker behind them.

"Anyways, Ebrithil," Leah began, winking at Corrin, "as Thuviel pointed out, all four of our travelers must be practically dead on their feet, and anyways it's past midnight."

"Is it?" Eragon tipped his head back to look at the moon, frowning. "Huh. So it is. In that case, I think we will postpone any other activities until tomorrow."

"You know…" Leah trailed off, sidling closer. "It'd be very cruel to make them get up at daybreak when they've been up so late, or anyone for that matter."

Eragon looked at her with mingled amusement and exasperation. "You," he accused, "just want a day off from your studies."

"Yes," Leah agreed unconcernedly. "Am I going to get it?"

Eragon sighed, but he was smiling as he looked up at Saphira. "What do you think?"

 _I think our students are lazy_ , she mused, _but it would be nice to not have to watch the Riders mangle the Rimgar when I want to be sleeping._

"I never _mangle_ the Rimgar," Leah huffed.

"Anymore," Eragon commented loftily. Leah looked like she intended to argue the point, but he forestalled her with a raised hand. "Fine," he acceded, "everyone can relax tomorrow while we get Corrin and Kiera settled."

"Yes!" Leah cheered, and darted off to tell Varog. Corrin watched her go, confounded by her energy.

"She seems like a handful," Murtagh ventured, managing to startle both Eragon and Corrin.

"Yes," Eragon agreed, "but I find her energy inspiring." He rolled a shoulder and then shifted into movement. "Come on," he said, "and let's see if we can find something to feed you two with."


	12. Chapter 12

_**I am**_ **finally** __ _ **done; this thing has taken**_ **forever** __ _ **to write. Sorry about the long wait for this update, I've been slammed these past few weeks. Hopefully I can have the next chapter up a little quicker. Not much action in this one, but some important spadework for the next few chunks of story. Hope you enjoy!**_

Corrin woke with a start and had no idea where he was. He was lying on a simple cot in a space filled with sunlight. Arches of smooth grey stone curved from a ceiling high above him to form four archway exits to the square room that he was lying in, intersecting to form four corners, one of which contained the top corner of his cot. The archway which his feet pointed to revealed a presumably identical room next to him, but he could see no details because a soundly sleeping Kiera was curled up inside the confines of the stone arches. The archway to his left opened onto a stretch of grass that led to a green forest, and when he hesitantly got up from his cot, he saw that the archway to his right led out onto a huge courtyard paved in squares of pale grey stone. He relaxed as he recognized the Rider's Court, and memory of the past night drifted back to him.

Kiera's saddlebags, including the one holding most of his earthly possessions, had been hung up on a wooden construct that resembled a coat rack: he opened the correct bag and withdrew a clean shirt, one of his cotton Surdan ones instead of the heavier lamarye. When he turned, pulling the shirt on over his head, he caught sight of a slim mirror hidden in the corner opposite the coat rack and adjacent to his cot. Hesitantly, he approached it, examining his features in the mirror.

It had only been two weeks or so since he last saw himself in the mirror in his room in Ellesmera, but he wondered if the lines of his face were not already altered to be less human. His eyes were the same, a watery green, but he thought the shape might have changed a smidge, and when he pulled his hair away from his ear, there was definitely the beginnings of a point. Lady Arya had long since told him about the changes that human Riders experienced the longer they were bound to their dragons, but they had only become noticeable on him in the last month or two. He stared at his altered ear for a moment more, then let his hair fall back down and turned back to his little "room"; more the sense of an open-sided pavilion, really.

He pulled his boots back on and ducked out into the Court, squinting in the sunlight. He judged it to be the shift between early and mid morning. The faint clash of metal against metal caught his attention, forward and to his left. As his eyes adjusted he realized that Leah and Varog were sparring near another side of the courtyard. He looked up at the mountain, orienting himself, and determined after a moment that he was standing before the south side of the great stone square, and Varog and Leah were dueling by the west face. He broke into a jog to cross the expanse of stone blocks between them.

Thuviel and Galzra did not seem to be in evidence, but there were shadowy figures moving about in the archways behind the two combatants, and as Corrin approached, the smell of fire and food wafted towards him on the breeze. He quickened his steps to a run.

He looped around the two sparring Riders, and recognized Eragon and Murtagh standing side-by-side and watching the swordwork. Further back the black-furred Blodhgarm was leaning against a stone column opposite a silver-haired elf woman. Behind them, he caught sight of a fire with a smallish cauldron balanced over it.

Even as Corrin slowed to a walk, approaching hesitantly, a third elf stuck his silver-haired head out of the archway and looked around with almond eyes until he spotted Corrin. The elf, short for one of his race, ducked between Blodhgarm and the elf woman and trotted over to Corrin, holding a wooden bowl of something hot. The elf touched three fingers of his free hand to his lips in silent greeting and handed the bowl over to Corrin with a smile. "Thank you," Corrin murmured, suddenly hungry.

"You are most welcome," the elf replied easily. "I am Calarel, I do the cooking around here." He might have said more, but there was a loud crash from within the "kitchen", and the elf jumped and darted back into the archway. When he had disappeared, Corrin looked around again. Eragon caught his eye and gestured for the young Rider to join him and Murtagh. Corrin dutifully walked over, spooning up the contents of the bowl, some sort of cooked grain mixed with fruit. Murtagh made a gesture that might have been a greeting, but it was difficult to tell because he was likewise engaged with his own meal.

"So," Corrin asked between bites, "I don't see any of the other dragons around. Where did they disappear to?"

"Thorn's still asleep, the lazy lump," Murtagh grumbled.

Eragon chuckled. "I sent Saphira down to the dock; I like for someone to check on them every week or so to make sure nothing's wrong with them or the _Talita_."

"The _Talita_?" Corrin interrupted confusedly.

"The ship that transported all of us here," Eragon explained. "There are seven crew members who stay with it full-time, and they have a little settlement down by the edge of the lake." Corrin nodded, remembering the red light that Kiera had pointed out the past night. "Anyways, she should be back soon. Thuviel and Galzra are probably up the mountain with Shruikan; fortunately, if they meant to get into any mischief, they would have taken their Riders with them."

Even as he said that, Corrin heard metal screeching across metal and an undignified yelp. He looked up in time to watch Leah crash to the paving stones, her legs swept out from under her by the gray broadsword that Varog was holding.

"Leah," Eragon commented dryly, "I would hope you know better than to try brute force against an Urgal by now."

"Yes, Ebrithil," she grumbled, accepting Varog's offered hand to get to her feet.

"Murtagh tells me," Eragon continued conversationally, "that you aren't terrible with the sword yourself, Corrin."

"I, um, I've only been learning in earnest for a few months, so I don't know that much," Corrin stuttered, flustered.

Eragon shrugged. "Everyone has to start somewhere, and if you have any talent at all, you'll be better off than either of _them_ were when I started their training." He punctuated this with a gesture in the direction of Leah and Varog, who were now circling each other in identical low-guard positions. Corrin smiled and nodded.

Eragon and Murtagh continued to make small talk as all three of them watched Leah and Varog spar, until finally Leah ducked under one of Varog's swings to touch her blade to his ribs. "HAH!" she exclaimed gleefully. Varog rolled his eyes and sheathed the gray broadsword in lieu of a response.

"I think that'll be enough for now," Eragon called, "we do still have things to be about this morning. Do either of you know where your dragons are?"

"With Shruikan," the two Riders answered in unison.

"Call them back down, if you would," Eragon requested, and turned back towards the kitchen.

Murtagh raised an eyebrow at Leah. "'Down?" he inquired curiously.

"Shruikan has a clearing higher up the mountain where he sleeps," Leah explained. "Sometimes in good weather Thuviel and Galzra will go up and visit him instead of spending the night down in the Court."

 _Fascinating._ Corrin turned to see Kiera approaching from the direction of their rooms, followed at a slower pace by Thorn. _He doesn't prefer to stay down here?_

Leah shrugged. "He likes the privacy."

"At any rate," Eragon interrupted, dragging them all back to the matter at hand by main force, "I think we'll spend the morning showing Corrin, Murtagh, Thorn, and Kiera around, and then in the afternoon Saphira and I will run you, Corrin, and your dragon through some tests to ascertain your skill set."

"Yes, Ebrithil," Corrin replied.

Leah frowned. "All due respect, Ebrithil," she said, exchanging a glance with Varog, "but do you really need the two of us and our dragons for that?"

"I do," Eragon assured her. "I hope that you and Varog and your dragons will be able to add in any information I forget to mention as we go. Also," he fixed her with a stern gaze, "I know that if I leave you four alone with nothing to do, you will invariably find some way to get yourselves into trouble."

Leah's frown melted into a grin that had too much wolf in it to be properly sheepish. "Fair enough" she acceded cheerfully. Corrin stifled a grin behind one hand, and the whole group moved to follow Eragon as he began to walk along the row of stone arches.

 _ **Thank you as always to everyone who reviews this! It means a ton to me.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Arrrrgh. I had to rewrite this three times. Three, I tell you! And I finally get it written, and it doesn't even make it to the important stuff! So we have another chapter of set-building and characterization, because Leah is a rebellious pixie and keeps running off with the storyline, and I'm left behind going "Leah! What are you doing? The story isn't supposed to go over there, you should be doing this!" Now I'm in the same boat as poor Eragon. :P Woe is me.**_

"Make sense so far?" Eragon finished. He'd been explaining the basic layout of the living spaces as they walked; the Riders were on the south side, arranged from the most senior to the west, to Corrin, the least senior, in the easternmost inhabited cell. The elves all slept in the cells on the north colonnade, and the kitchen and storage spaces were all on the west side, leaving the east colonnade empty for the moment.

"Sure," Murtagh acknowledged, "but it doesn't seem very defensible to have all the elves here and all the Riders way over there. Shouldn't everyone be closer together?"

"There isn't anyone out here to defend from," Eragon said. "The elves prefer to have some degree of privacy, and some of them come and go at odd hours; they have a greater freedom of movement on the north side."

"It's not as though we have any shortage of room," rumbled Varog.

Murtagh sighed but left the matter alone. Corrin took advantage of the pause to look around. Their little group had stopped near the northwest corner of the Court, which had an excellent view of the lush, green side of the mountain due east. Corrin tilted his head back to look up and caught sight of a black wing against the blue sky, high above the Court. Shruikan seemed to balance there for a moment, then tilted his wings and soared out of sight behind the shoulder of the mountain.

"Does the mountain have a name?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Not yet," Leah told him. "No one can agree on one."

Varog was making the ruk-ruk sound of laughter again. "I insist that Dragon Mountain is perfectly acceptable."

"Nonsense," Leah jested, "Why not Rider Mountain, then? We live here too."

 _We should name it after Brom_ , chuckled Thuviel.

 _Why Brom and not Eragon?_ Galzra returned laughingly. _Or perhaps Saphira?_

"Mount Scales," Corrin offered with a shy smile.

Leah cackled. "Oh, good one! Scales, I like that!" She looked around, and her eyes alit on something behind Corrin. "Ooh, I know! Let's name it Mount Blodhgarm!" she announced with a grin. Corrin turned to see the elf in question watching them with bored yellow eyes.

"I would prefer," he said dryly, "that you did not."

Corrin started laughing despite himself, and he could hear the other two Riders doing likewise. Blodhgarm sighed in a manner that suggested this occurred often, and walked past them to join Eragon and Murtagh where they were in conversation with two other elves. Corrin turned to look over at them, and then back at the two younger Riders beside him. Varog was still laughing, but Leah was watching the conversing group with a speculating expression.

Corrin had only been there a day, but he'd already learned to recognize that expression as trouble. "What are you thinking?" he asked, a little apprehensive. He felt Kiera's attention shift to the other human.

Leah shrugged and turned towards him. "Just that our masters are probably going to be busy for a bit, and it's boring to just stand here; want to go look at something fun?"

"Are we allowed to?" Corrin had a suspicion that they weren't.

Leah smiled brightly. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission, little brother!"

Corrin's opinion of that must have shown on his face, because Leah laughed aloud, and before he knew it, she had linked arms with him and was pulling him along. Then Varog was on Leah's other side, and both of them were laughing, and then all three Riders were running full tilt down the length of the Court. He heard Eragon yell something and Murtagh laugh, but beyond that all his focus was on keeping up with the two older Riders, both of whom were faster runners than he was. Kiera was laughing too, within the confines of his mind, and he felt her urging him to go faster.

They kept going like that all the way to the northeast corner. Corrin, panting, followed Leah and Varog when they ducked into the last cell on the row and into the corner room. Inside, the three of them stood by a wooden table. Carved on it, or maybe grown out of it, was a relief map of their surroundings and the Court itself. Corrin frowned as he caught his breath. Though all the features he remembered seeing from dragonback were there, covered with hard, dark bark, there were several details he didn't remember from the night before, most prominently many slim towers in pale, bare wood.

He compared his memory to Kiera's before he asked. "The real thing doesn't look like that," he pointed out, gesturing to the table.

"Yeah, no," Leah agreed. "This is something the elves made. It helps Eragon and the elves who work on construction to keep track of what we have built and what we _want_ to build in the future. When we finish building anything on here we grow bark over it to differentiate."

Corrin bit his lip. "Is it to scale?"

"More or less," Leah responded. "Why?"

"Those towers would be gigantic," he mentioned hesitantly.

"Have to make room for the dragons somewhere," Varog answered. "They won't fit in the colonnades forever."

"That," Corrin laughed, "I can believe. At this rate Kiera'll be too fat for my legs to fit around in a few years."

 _I heard that_ , his dragon announced tartly.

Leah laughed. "She won't be that bad," she assured him. "A dragon's growth rate goes through what's called exponential decay. Some elf Rider defined it, centuries ago; it means that while it might take her a year to grow a foot now, when she gets old it'll take her ten years, or twenty, or two hundred. And the longer she lives, the slower she'll grow."

 _We'll see about that_ , Kiera jokingly threatened.

Leah held up her hands in surrender. "As you say, bright one." Corrin stifled his amusement.

 _Shouldn't you three be worried about Eragon?_ she huffed.

"Nah," Leah waved the question off. "He's going to introduce Murtagh and Thorn to all the elves on the north side, so he'll be a while."

"How many people are here, total?" Corrin asked, suddenly curious.

Leah cracked her knuckles and leaned over the table. "Well," she responded, "to start with, there are now six dragons."

"Saphira, Thorn, Shruikan, Thuviel, Galzra, and Kiera," Corrin supplied quickly, eager to prove that he'd been paying attention.

"Yes," Leah nodded, "and there are five Riders; Eragon, Murtagh, you, and I, the humans, and then Varog, our only Urgal. The rest are elves."

"And there are how many of them?" Corrin prodded, curiosity unsatisfied.

"I'm getting there," grumbled the other Rider. "During the war, Islanzadi Drottning assigned twelve spellcasters to protect Eragon and Saphira. Of those twelve, Wyrden was killed in Dras-Leona, and Laufin and Uthinare chose to stay in Alagaesia. The remaining nine are here. Besides them, there are twenty elves who decided to journey east with our masters. Seven of those are boatsmen. They live and work down by the dock they built for the Talita; we don't talk with them very much. There are two who work on surveying the mountains, looking for natural resources and the like. Eight have assigned themselves to construction work, and they spend most of their time arguing over materials and architecture. We have three healers, all of whom like the dragons better than us, so you won't see much of them unless you are injured. The rest do odd jobs around the Court and help with food production. The names you actually need to know are Invidia, who weaves clothing for everyone, Calarel, who runs our kitchen, such as it is, and Yaela and Blodhgarm, who help Eragon in teaching the Riders."

"Huh," Corrin murmured, processing this. "I see."

Leah nodded. 'So he'll introduce Murtagh and Thorn to everyone, and then they'll come collect us and the whole group will go over to the southwest corner" she pointed to the correct corridor, "which is where he keeps the mirrors for contacting Alagaesia."

"Is there anything interesting about those?" Corrin inquired.

"Not really," Varog answered, "other than that there is always someone there; Eragon insists that the monarchs in Alagaesia must be able to contact us at all times."

 _I believe Invidia is on duty at the moment,_ Galzra contributed, _I can hear her loom._

 _Ebrithil will probably take the opportunity to contact the various kings and queens and inform them that you've arrived safely_ , Thuviel added.

"Alright," Corrin accepted, "but is that all? It's still barely past mid morning, and Ebrithil said he wouldn't start testing Kiera and I until the afternoon… What?" His question was prompted by Leah and Varog, who had looked at each other as soon as he asked the first question.

Leah glanced back at him and shook her head. "That's not all," she said, "but it's our master's place to show you the rest, not ours."

Corrin scowled and opened his mouth to argue, but Leah ducked around the table and made it back out to the Court before he could ask again. Corrin sighed and followed her back into the sun, grumbling about vague, elfish answers. Kiera snorted in amusement.

 _ **So that happened. I will get back to actual plot next chapter. I will. In the meantime, thank you as always to everyone who reviews; I really appreciate the feedback.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Hello again! I'm**_ _ **so**_ _ **sorry for the long wait, but my schedule has been hectic and this chapter was, for some reason, really hard to write. I think it turned out alright, though, and I actually got plot things done this time, which is excellent. Thank you to everyone who has continued to comment; it's been extremely helpful. Hope you enjoy!**_

By the time Eragon had stepped away from the wall, the stone had revealed the shape of two huge doors carved into the rock, large enough to make even Saphira seem normal-sized. "Ladrin," Eragon commanded, and Thorn jerked his neck back as the huge slabs of stone slowly rotated outward. It was disturbingly silent for an operation involving so much weight. The only thing visible inside was a dark corridor, the floor slanting down evenly as far as the eye could see. Corrin glanced over at Murtagh, who was regarding the passageway with mingled interest and suspicion.

 _Come,_ said Saphira, and paced forwards into the tunnel, Eragon walking at her side.

Corrin shrugged and moved to follow, but Kiera stood a few moments more before entering, apprehension rolling off of her in waves. _Are you alright?_ he questioned her, concerned.

She snorted uneasily. _I can sense… something, farther down the passage, like turbulent energy._

 _What do you think it is?_ Corrin frowned.

A mental sigh whispered through his mind like a gentle breeze. _Only one way to find out, I suppose_. Despite the excess of room, Kiera ducked her head down as she entered the shadowed tunnel. Corrin glanced up at the ceiling of the tunnel, still rough-hewn of grey and brown rock, as he walked.

Murtagh caught up to him no more than fifty feet down the passage. "I don't suppose the two troublemakers gave you any clue what on earth we are doing down here?"

"No," Corrin replied, shaking his head. "They seemed purposely vague about the whole thing." Eragon had finally let Leah and Varog loose after the mirror room, releasing them and their dragons to do as they would until the midday meal.

Murtagh huffed irritably. "I swear," he grumbled, "Eragon probably told them to keep us wondering. He has such a dramatic streak."

Corrin compressed his lips in an attempt to hide his smile, but Murtagh noticed anyway. "What?" he demanded.

 _He is probably thinking that 'dramatic' is a little hypocritical, coming from you,_ Thorn interjected with sly malice.

Murtagh rounded on the red dragon. "See here, you.." he began, holding up a finger in warning.

"Did I miss something?" Eragon called back from along the passage.

"You miss lots of things," Murtagh said. "Head of stone, you have there; it's no wonder the dwarves adopted you. Speaking of stone, where are we going?"

"Down," Eragon replied, "and we have a long way to go, so kindly hurry up."

"Yes, a long way, in the dark," Murtagh complained, walking. "Couldn't you have put some Erisdar in here?"

Eragon's sigh was audible to where Corrin stood, and the two brothers continued making jabs at each other as they walked a long, long way down.

 _Are all humans like these two?_ Kiera asked him privately. _The elves were so much more composed._

 _Not all humans,_ Corrin told her, _but they are worse because they are siblings, I think. Family._

 _You don't act like that,_ Kiera rumbled _._

 _My cousins are both far older than I,_ he replied. _They never had time to argue with me._

He could not have guessed how far down the tunnel went, but his feet had started to hurt by the time Kiera lifted her head and told him, _I see light ahead._

Corrin looked up and caught sight of it himself; less light than a ruddy glow that permeated the tunnel and grew stronger as they walked. The floor abruptly leveled out and allowed him to see down a surprisingly short corridor to a doorway glowing with the red light. It was framed by a hulking stone archway, and even at his current distance he could see deep cuts forming letters of the elven script carved in the rock. Ahead, Saphira twisted her head around to glance back at them, then walked inside, illuminating the unbelievable scale of that arch.

Corrin and Kiera followed their masters through the arch. Within was a dimly lit antechamber, with three archways leading left, right, and straight ahead. Corrin would have stopped to look around, but Saphira walked without pause to the center arch, from which emanated the strange red light. The young Rider and his dragon walked through side by side, into a chamber of wonders.

The room within was perfectly circular, lit by the glowing light emanating from the pit sunken straight into the center. Tiers of stone rose a third of the way up the walls before giving way to rows of alcoves carved into the rock. On every tier were laid eggs in gorgeous colors stratiated with white, and in every alcove sparkled a jeweled, gemlike object. As Corrin stared around in open-mouthed shock, he more felt than heard a thousand whispering voices that seemed to fill the chamber with a gentle susurration like the wind on the plains. His eyes finally landed in front of them, where he beheld one of the strangest sights he had ever witnessed; a metal man with the head of a dragon sat in a carved throne across the room, with a naked Rider's sword laid across his knees.

Corrin felt a flicker of surprise from Kiera. He peeled his eyes away from the metal warrior, and startled; what he had taken for a shadow behind the dragon-man's seat was in fact none other than Shruikan, his sinuous black length draped along the curve of the back wall. The black dragon had his head down on his forelimbs like a cat at rest, but his glittering eyes were open and fixed on them.

Eragon frowned. "Shruikan," he greeted aloud, warily, but then his expression cleared and he directed his voice upwards, to echo off the higher levels. "Ebrithilar," he greeted, though Corrin saw only the one dragon-man, "We have newcomers that I would like to introduce you to."

 _Yes,_ spoke an amused mind that belonged to none of the dragons Corrin had met before. _And we noticed that you took long enough about bringing them down. Welcome, Murtagh. Welcome, Thorn. We are glad to see you home with the Riders so soon._ Thorn hummed loud enough to make Corrin's bones reverberate, and Murtagh dropped to one knee, grinning like a fiend. Clearly he shared none of Corrin and Kiera's confusion.

A slightly deeper voice spoke next. _And welcome to you as well, Corrin, Kiera. Eragon has told us much that he learned of you from Lady Arya, but we are glad to meet you both ourselves._

 _We are grateful, Ebrithilar,_ Kiera whispered. _But we do not understand._

 _Be at peace, young ones. All will be revealed._

"The gemstone-looking objects in the walls are called Eldunari," Eragon said to them, "and they are the Rider's greatest secret. Your greatest secret, now, too. Before I can explain, you must each of you swear to never discuss what I tell you with any but another Rider without my or Saphira's permission."

"I swear, Ebrithil," Corrin answered instantly, and heard Kiera do likewise.

 _Good,_ Saphira snorted. _Each Eldunari contains the soul of a dragon whose body has died. Though they have left behind their flesh and bones, their minds and their magics are preserved. Here lie nearly every Eldunari that the Black King stole from the Riders of old. And here also are the Eldunari who sheltered in the Vault of Souls on Vroengard for nigh on a century, guarding the eggs which are the hope of our species._

 _How is that possible?_ gasped Corrin, unable to speak aloud.

"We'll teach you when you are a little older and more experienced," Eragon assured him. For some reason Murtagh barked a laugh.

The first voice that had addressed them all spoke again. _I am Umaroth. In the centuries before Galbatorix destroyed the Riders, my companion was Vrael, leader of our order in the War of the Forsworn._

The second, deeper voice introduced himself next. _I am Glaedr, and my Rider Oromis and I were Eragon and Saphira's teachers before they faced the Black King._

 _And the guardian,_ Saphira concluded _, is Cuaroc._ The dragon-man raised his sword in salute, then resumed his statue-like position.

 _How...how many others?_ Thorn asked, hesitant.

 _Of the eggs there remain two hundred forty and three,_ Umaroth answered him, _of which three and fifty are destined to be bonded to dragons. Of us Eldunari, we are still in the process of counting. You may get up and look around, Murtagh,_ he added _. We are hardly formal enough to require you to keep kneeling, and fear not that you will harm the eggs._

 _They are bespelled enough that you could probably not do anything to them if you meant to,_ Glaedr amended.

Corrin waited for a nod from Eragon before approaching the tiers of eggs himself. He could feel Kiera's joy and curiosity, emotions washing over him like waves and mingling with his own. She nudged him with her nose, sending him stumbling towards the lowest tier, and when he had regained his balance, he found himself in front of a pretty green egg. He'd never seen any dragon egg except Kiera's, but this one was very similar, glossy and with the vibrant color broken by a matrix of pure white lines. He wondered, idly, what the egg of a white dragon would look like, even as he hesitantly lifted and then dropped his arm, unsure whether he could touch them safely.

 _You can_ , a distantly amused female voice informed him. _This one is a female, and she will be Shur'tugal, one day._

 _Thank you,_ he replied, reaching out to lay a hand on the smooth surface of the egg. _May I ask who you are?_

 _I am Agaravel,_ she told him, and withdrew from his mind before he could answer, like a butterfly flitting away from a flower.

Corrin nodded thoughtfully and stepped away again. Kiera reached her head out to tap her nose gently against the egg. Behind them, Saphira began to hum. _Come,_ she said, _we have much to speak of._

With a final glance at the green egg, Corrin turned back and he and Kiera returned to their master's sides. Murtagh and Thorn approached from the other side of the chamber, though Corrin worried Murtagh would fall over something, with his eyes focused on the higher levels of the chamber.

"This is incredible," Corrin said, though the word seemed rather flat by comparison.

Eragon grinned and nodded at him. "We think so," he agreed. "In this room is the hope of all races of Alagaesia. For now, at least, the Rider's job is as much to protect the eggs and Eldunari as it is to make peace among the races. This is an important part of our heritage, and you both are now responsible for helping to preserve it." Corrin nodded seriously.

Across from the door, Shruikan suddenly heaved his bulk up and began to walk towards them, rounding both the rock throne and the glowing pit. Corrin instinctively drew back towards Kiera; he knew logically that Shruikan had no reason to hurt him, but the image of the fanged, house-sized, black reptile advancing on him was intimidating nonetheless.

Fortunately, his instinctive apprehension was unwarranted; Shruikan paced across the stone floor and between Saphira and Kiera towards the door. He paused only once, when his head was even with Kiera's, to turn one eye onto the young Shur'tugalar.

One ice-blue eye, to be exact.

Corrin's mouth opened before he could even think of stopping the words. "I thought you had yellow eyes."

Shruikan made an odd _hough_ ing noise in his throat, and craned his long neck around until he could blink at Corrin with the other eye, which was the deep golden color he remembered from the night previous. _Yes?_ A new, deep voice drawled in the ancient language.

Corrin blinked twice and swallowed. "Oh," was all he managed, shocked to realize that Shruikan had spoken in the ancient language after he'd heard so much about the wild dragons' lack of language.

From the black dragon Corrin felt a sense of profound amusement, enough to make him flush with embarrassment, and then Shruikan moved on.

 _Oh?_ repeated Kiera. _I hope one of our masters knows the secret to teaching eloquence. You're sorely in need._

 _You… just… hush,_ he retorted huffily.

 _ **So yeah. Shruikan has mismatched eyes. I've been wrestling with his eye color for literal months now, but in the end I just couldn't help myself. You have my sincerest apologies for bashing you over the head with the symbolism. Hopefully this will be the last major character introduction and I can get on to more interesting story points. Please feel free to comment, particularly with any criticism, and bragging rights go to anyone who can remember who Agaravel is!**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Ugh, this took forever. Oh well. I realized after posting the previous chapter that this story has now exceeded 20,000 words, which makes it the longest work I have ever written! Yay! I hope everyone reading this will continue to enjoy it, and thank you as always to those who comment. I appreciate it immensely.**_

Calarel, Corrin decided, was an exceptional cook. The midday meal was in the elvish style, no meat and mostly composed of fruit and vegetables, but delicious all the same. Corrin participated little in the conversation, engrossed in his food. There was no table large enough to hold them all, so the Riders took their bowls and plates and sat on the flat, sunwarmed pavers outside, while the three dragons who had gone down to meet the Eldunari sat around them, and Thuviel, Galzra, and Shruikan cavorted in the sky above.

"So, Murtagh," Eragon said, as most of them were finishing their meals. "What have you and Thorn been doing in the north all this time? I remember you saying something about building a castle…"

"Well," Murtagh shrugged, "Castle-building turned out to be a slightly more complex process than I anticipated. Thorn and I flew north, to the lands around the mouth of the Bay of Fundor. There're a few scattered villages up there; a couple Urgal, a couple more human. Once we figured out how hard it was to clear enough land for a castle in those thick woods, we started looking for an area that was already open, and by and by we ran across a town with the ruins of a hillfort on the outskirts."

Corrin noticed that Leah and Varog had broken off from watching the young dragons in the sky to listen closer.

"They thought of themselves as more of a tribe than just a village; their leader was a chief, like with the Urgals or the Wandering Tribes," Murtagh continued. "You can imagine they were less than pleased with a dragon descending on them, but I managed to convince them that neither Thorn nor I meant them any harm. The chief was very courteous, and as it turned out they'd been meaning to rebuild the thing for a while and never got around to it. Once I assured them repeatedly that Thorn could get food for himself, they were perfectly happy to provide food for me and shelter for both of us in exchange for work on the fort."

Eragon chuckled. "I imagine if they'd thought they had to feed Thorn, that conversation might have gone differently."

A ripple of laughter ran around the group. "Aye," Murtagh agreed amiably, "but fortunately we had other options. It was a good place for us, actually; the townsfolk were a little wary of Thorn, but they were all very generous. We stayed there, oh, a couple winters, at least. It was cold."

 _Very cold,_ Thorn added. _Sometimes it snowed even on the edges of summer._

"Ugh," Leah interjected, shuddering at the thought. Corrin couldn't help but agree, thinking of the contrast with the endless heat of his homeland.

Varog snorted. "You southerners have no fortitude. You think a little breath of autumn is the depths of winter."

"I assure you," Murtagh replied wryly, "I was cured of any such illusions by my first winter there. To be fair, it was a decent incentive to get some sort of walls and roof up."

 _It sounds like a good place for you both,_ Saphira commented. _Why leave?_

Murtagh pulled a face. "Well, it's a bit of a long story-"

Thorn interrupted him with a snort. _No it isn't._

Murtagh waved the comment off. "Ignore him. It was a combination of factors; we mentioned the cold, of course, and game in the mountains was running low from Thorn's hunting, and…"

 _The chief's daughter fell in love with him._

Eragon's jaw dropped. "No!"

 _Yes._

Corrin clapped both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing. Behind him, amusement rolled off Kiera in waves, making it even harder for him to restrain himself.

Murtagh glowered at the entire group, as Eragon cackled and everyone else tried to pretend they weren't laughing. "It is _not. Funny,_ " he seethed, but the flush on his face and neck gave away his embarrassment. No one paid him any mind.

Thorn hummed thoughtfully. _Of course nothing happened, but the chief_ _was_ very _unhappy with the idea that the strange dragonrider was plotting to steal away his daughter, and we decided it was best to move on._

 _Just like that?_ Kiera asked, sounding surprised. _I would have expected more drama_.

 _There_ might _have been a few pitchforks involved in our departure,_ Thorn conceded.

"In other words," Murtagh grumbled, "they ran us out of town."

Leah shook her head. "That sounds like quite the thorny problem." Corrin smiled down at his food, then looked up as he realized the joke. Varog rolled his eyes and cuffed Leah on the back of the head, but when she looked up again, she caught Corrin's eye and winked. He stifled a grin and looked down once more.

"Anyways," Murtagh growled when the group's mirth had mostly died down, "by that point I was thoroughly sick of snow, so we decided to head back to civilization, and eventually that led us here."

"Did you finish the castle?" Varog wanted to know.

Murtagh nodded "Most of it. Still needed a couple adjustments, but the basic structure was solid."

Any further conversation was halted by overlapping roars from above. In the sky, Galzra and Thuviel spiralled haltingly down towards the Court, trying to extract wings, limbs, and tails from the tangle that seemed to have resulted from them crashing into each other. Above them, a winged black shadow balanced in the sky and watched their antics.

Saphira growled low in her throat and got to her feet. _That will be enough,_ she called out. _Come down, we have things do do._

 _Yes, Ebrithil_ , came two replies. Shruikan just tilted his wings and wheeled down to the ground.

Corrin got to his feet, still looking at Thuviel and Galzra as they finally detangled themselves. "How did Shruikan even get them to run into each other like that?" he mused to himself.

"Shruikan has his mother's talent for aerial maneuvering," Leah answered. "He can do harder acrobatics than either of our dragons. Thuviel is still the fastest, though," she amended with a touch of pride.

Varog inclined his great horned head in agreement. "Thuviel is fastest, Shruikan is most agile, and Galzra has the greatest strength."

Leah raised an eyebrow. "Or so Varog would have you believe."

"Is true," the Urgal grunted.

 _For now_ , Saphira chided them. _For all you know, Kiera may displace your dragons in any or all of those categories._

"We will see," Eragon said. "It's about time we got on with our afternoon anyway, wouldn't you say? After all, we aren't going to assess Corrin and Kiera's capabilities by just sitting here."

Corrin grinned nervously, as Kiera got to her feet behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Finally finished this chapter, two weeks after I thought I was going to. As it turns out, fight scenes are hard to write. Oh well. I hope everyone had good winter holidays, and as always I appreciate any and all comments, especially constructive criticism. Enjoy!**_

Eragon ducked into the arch next to Calarel's kitchen, and emerged holding two expertly made wooden likenesses of swords. He tossed one to Corrin. "Test the balance of that," he commanded, and strode over to Kiera's side himself.

"If I remember correctly," he began, examining Kiera's head and neck with brisk efficiency, "Kiera should be six months old by now, correct?"

 _Yes, Ebrithil_ , Kiera confirmed.

"And how old are you, Corrin?" the older Rider asked, peering into Kiera's open mouth at her teeth.

"Seventeen," Corrin answered quickly, then amended, "Ebrithil."

"Good. And as I recall, Kiera has not yet breathed fire, and neither of you has shown any sign of magic as yet?"

Corrin answered in the affirmative, though he felt a tiny trickle of shame for the latter. He wondered if Leah and Varog had their magic yet, but it didn't seem the time to ask.

Eragon nodded, accepting the answers with no sign of disapproval. "That's fine," he assured absently, as he motioned to Kiera to spread her wings out. "I've already seen that you both have a working knowledge of the ancient language, and as far as I can tell Kiera is healthy, so you both are at a good starting place for the next phase of your training." Their master stepped back, nodding to himself, and then turned back towards Corrin.

"Leah," he commanded abruptly, and picked up the other wooden sword to offer the hilt to her. He gestured towards Corrin. "Let's see how much swordwork our young friend knows."

Leah flashed Corrin a stunningly bright grin. Then she gave a wild war cry and lunged towards him with a powerful overhand swing.

Corrin made a very unmanly yelping noise and scrambled out of her way. Leah aimed the backswing at him even as her momentum carried her past, and Corrin barely got his own blade up in time to prevent a bloody nose.

"Preferably without seriously injuring him," Eragon amended mildly.

Leah shrugged and leaned forwards to stab at Corrin's torso. Corrin batted it aside.

 _You should hit her back,_ Kiera informed him helpfully.

 _Yes, thank you, Kiera, I'm working on it_ , he grumbled, struggling to parry Leah's attacks without losing his balance.

Kiera was silent for a moment, during which Corrin received several bruises and narrowly avoided being disarmed. _She's a better swordsman than you,_ the dragon observed.

 _Swordswoman_ , he corrected, retreating backwards to avoid her blade, _and yes, I'd noticed._

Leah abruptly knocked his blade aside and swept his feet with much the same move Varog had used on her in their earlier sparring session. Corrin crashed painfully onto his leg and hip.

"Again," Eragon commanded.

Corrin gamely rose to his feet, trying to set his feet in a good stance. As he stood, Kiera mused thoughtfully in a corner of his mind. _You won't be able to compete with her with skill,_ she advised. _If you want to make a good showing of yourself, do something that she won't expect. Surprise them. You might even win._

 _Fair enough,_ he replied. _So what can I do that she won't see coming?_ He regarded Leah as each of them waited for the other to make a move. Leah watched him unblinking. Her eyes, he realized, were the same fawn-brown as her dragon's. This momentary realization distracted him just enough that when Leah jumped forth again, Corrin was too startled to do more than slap ineffectively at her weapon with his own. She stabbed him in the gut hard enough to double him over.

"Leah," Eragon warned, a bit of an edge in his voice. The young Rider backed off, and Corrin straightened up to find his master looking at him with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Ebrithil." Corrin nodded fervently.

Eragon frowned for a moment, then shrugged and gestured for Leah to hand her wooden sword over to him. She relinquished it without protest, and Eragon himself took up a fighting stance opposite Corrin.

 _I've got it,_ Kiera announced in the back of his mind.

 _Please,_ Corrin answered, _enlighten me._

 _Do you remember when Arya and Firnen told us the story of Galbatorix's defeat? Eragon couldn't defeat him with skill at arms or skill in gramarye, so he used an angle of approach that Galbatorix could not anticipate. When the Mad King expected him to resort to brute violence, he used communication instead. Eragon won because he defied the expectation of his enemy._

 _So…,_ Corrin said, trying to think it through _, I need to figure out what my opponent will expect based on how they see me, and then do something different from that?_

 _In essence, yes._

Corrin broke his stance long enough to roll out one shoulder, which was growing sore from hefting the weight of the sword. _That was very wise, Kiera,_ he commented. _I should ask you for fighting advice more often._

 _Well_ , she demurred, preening. _It's just basic strategy. The hunter never wants to be where their prey expects them, for then the hunted have a chance to strike back._

Kiera retreated to the edge of his mind to let him concentrate, and Corrin was left to his own thoughts. Unfortunately, Eragon chose that moment to go on the offensive. Corrin frantically deflected and backed up several steps. _Alright,_ he began, dodging a swing at his head, _how does he see me?_

A few simplistic answers presented themselves. Corrin knew that he was already far younger and less experienced than his master, and he looked less than his age besides. His fight against Leah had undoubtedly revealed that he knew little of the sword, and he was a young, common-born human, which made it unlikely that he had any substantial training in strategy.

Out of all those, his youth and his sword skills were probably most indicative of his possible actions. He had been a part of his fair share of street scuffles in Aberon, and he knew that inexperienced and outmatched boys would almost invariably try to charge their opponent, hoping to surprise their enemy and overpower their defenses for a quick victory.

 _There's my answer, then_. Ebrithil Eragon had undoubtedly grown up with other boys in Carvahall; he'd expect based on past experience that Corrin would try a berserker-style charge. _Perhaps Kiera should be the one teaching me the sword_ , he thought, and grinned.

Corrin switched his grip on the sword, met Eragon's eyes, and took a step forward as though preparing to run straight at him. However, he pushed to the side instead of running forward, and when Eragon moved his sword to deflect an attack from the front, Corrin had a perfect opening to swing at his shoulder. He aimed, swung… and then Eragon managed to duck his shoulder out of the way, and Corrin overbalanced and half-fell to the stone.

He scrambled back to his feet in time to catch Eragon's attack with his own blade. His opening had disappeared, and the same trick certainly wouldn't fool his master twice. "Drat," he said aloud without meaning to.

Eragon laughed, and then suddenly disengaged and backed a few steps away. "You aren't bad, actually. Certainly better than Varog was when he first got here. All he knew was axes. You'll need to fix that footwork, though." He bit his lip a moment in thought, then walked over and demonstrated a quick series of three moves with the sword. "Try that."

Corrin had to practice three times before Eragon was satisfied, but when his master unexpectedly attacked him in such a way that he naturally resorted to the new moves, he performed the series well enough to knock Eragon back a few feet. Kiera sent him a quick mental image of Leah and Varog's surprised faces.

"Very good," Eragon said. "I think we'll hardly need to worry about difficulties in swordwork."

Corrin smiled shyly and handed the wooden practice sword back to him.

 _ **Not many dragons beside Kiera in this chapter, but I promise the next chapter will make up for it. Until next time!**_


	17. Chapter 17

**_Hello! I hope everyone has had a good February; mine was busy but enjoyable. I've been plotting out this particular chapter for a little while now, and I think it turned out fairly well. As ever, please feel free to comment, particularly with constructive criticism, and thank you to everyone who has commented so far: it's a huge help. Hope you all enjoy!_**

 _Not bad,_ Saphira called up to Kiera. _Try it again, but focus on tighter spirals._

Corrin shifted from one foot to the other as he watched Kiera tilt her parchment-colored wings and perform the maneuver again. It was another one of those corkscrewing actions that always made his stomach protest: he was very glad to be on the ground for this exercise. While Kiera had been demonstrating her skills in the air, Eragon and the silver-haired Yaela had tested Corrin's mental defenses, but they had thankfully finished several minutes ago, leaving him at liberty to watch his dragon. Aside from occasionally demonstrating a technique on Saphira's request, the other dragons had sprawled out across that corner of the Court, cheerily calling advice and opinions up to Kiera.

"She's not bad," Leah commented at his shoulder, startling him. She winked at him and continued in a professional tone. "Certainly not lacking in self-awareness. Very few wasted moves."

"You would know better than I would," Corrin replied, before adding hastily, "but thank you."

Leah nodded. "Saphira'll be done putting her through her paces in another few minutes, I expect," she said. "They've gone through almost every basic skill, and the sun is getting towards the mountaintops."

As if on cue, Kiera began to spiral down towards Court, evidently released from Saphira's tender mercies. Corrin reached out to join their thoughts, and Kiera sent a wash of affection his way.

Saphira uncoiled her long, serpentine body and stretched her wings restlessly. _Firnen has done well training you_ , she complimented. _You clearly are not lacking talent in the air; I think you are prepared enough to join us in aerial exercises, or nearly so. You've mastered most of the basic forms._

 _That's all well and good to say,_ Thuviel said, a thoughtful slyness tingeing his words, _but I am of the opinion that you can't really be said to be_ master _of a skill if you can't do it with your Rider in the saddle._

 _Oh,_ Galzra answered blandly, _but perhaps the little sister is tired. She is after all, rather smaller than us: barely even large enough to carry her Argetlam. We shouldn't push her._

Kiera's head came up, and Corrin felt an alarming wave of indignation wash over him. _I can do anything you two fat-tailed geckos can do, with_ or _without Corrin,_ she snapped, rising readily to the bait.

Leah leaned over to Corrin. "Fat-tailed geckos?" she whispered, a laugh bubbling somewhere behind her words.

"They're these lizards in the western part of Surda," Corrin whispered back. "Supposedly they store water in their tail, and that's why the tail is fat, and if you grab the tail sometimes it falls off so the lizard can get away."

 _Perhaps you'd care to prove that claim?_ Thuviel offered innocently, ignoring Saphira's glare.

Kiera snorted indignantly. _I am sure eventually you will make a point._

"The tail falls _off?_ " Leah hissed disbelievingly.

Corrin shrugged. "I said it in the ancient language, didn't I?"

Leah opened her mouth, undoubtedly to interrogate him further, but both of them were interrupted by the dragons. _Fine_ , Kiera sniffed haughtily. _First one to make it around the southwest foothill, over the lake, and back to the Court wins. Corrin, get in the saddle._

"A race," Varog complained, even as he hopped gamely to his feet. Corrin scrambled up into the saddle, fumbling for the straps with clumsy fingers.

 _I don't suppose I can talk you out of this?_ He asked, without much hope, glancing up to see Leah swarm up Thuviel's side.

 _No._ He could feel iron determination under his dragon's words. _If I ever want to earn their respect, I can't back down now. They are always going to be bigger and stronger than I am, so I must be twice as fierce._ She unfolded her wings, shaking them out to loosen her joints. _You might want to tie your arms on, too. I doubt it will be a cut-and-dry test of speed._

 _Begin on three_ , said Thuviel, sitting up on his haunches. _One..._

Galzra rumbled deep in his throat. _Two._

Corrin felt Kiera's sides expand as she inhaled. _Three!_ she roared, and lunged forward with wings spread, startling her two competitors.

Thuviel flinched backwards on reflex, and Kiera swept past him to beat up over the colonnade. In the back of his mind Corrin was aware of a mental voice, nearly as deep as Firnen's, roaring with laughter. The rest of his attention was with Kiera's flight, as the two of them surged forwards.

 _ ***dragons*dragons*dragons***_

Halfway to the turn around the foothill, Kiera made an alarmed squawking noise and folded her wings. She dropped easily thirty feet before she caught herself, leaving Corrin's stomach somewhere above. Thuviel swooped past them, so close that Kiera had to fight through the turbulence of his wings. _Not again!_ she complained, and then went after him.

Corrin risked a glance back over his shoulder and saw that Galzra was some ways behind but gaining. _Quickly now,_ he urged Kiera, _we're losing our lead_.

 _I'm aware,_ Kiera answered, but her wings beat faster until they were a parchment-colored blur in Corrin's peripheral vision. They swung wide around the tip of the hill and started towards the lake. _I don't know how he passed us,_ she grumbled. _Look at him, he's practically-_

 _What?_ Corrin asked, after a moment. _Practically what?_ He leaned around her neck to see where she was looking, and then glanced down.

Shruikan had evidently decided to join the race.

Seen from above, the older dragon could almost have been Kiera's shadow, save for the glints of sunlight catching on his side. Even as Corrin saw him, he turned his head on one side to glance up at them with an amused, golden eye. _Wings,_ Shruikan rumbled in the ancient language.

Corrin frowned reflexively. "What?" he blurted.

 _What?_ Kiera echoed, confused.

Shruikan shifted his wings with the precision of a stooping hawk, but he went up instead of down, until he was flying easily to Kiera's right. _Watch,_ he commanded. _Wings._

Having captured their attention, Shruikan abruptly changed the pattern of his flight; his wings beat quickly but shallowly, describing almost little circles in the air. The similarity to Kiera's fluttering flight was not lost on either the dragon or her rider. When he stopped flapping, Shruikan drew a deep breath, lifted his wings, and then drove them down in a single, powerful motion. The movement reminded Corrin powerfully of something: it took a moment before he linked it to the oars on the boats that plied Lake Tudosten, pushing against the water with that same forcefulness.

Kiera glanced back at Corrin a little hesitantly, but at that moment Galzra passed them some ways to the left, and that decided her. She beat her wings twice to get a little height, and then drove her wings down in imitation.

 _OH_ , she exclaimed, _that is much easier. Thank you._

Shruikan hummed in acknowledgement, and then tilted his wings and dove down and forwards, trading altitude for speed. Though he quickly outpaced Kiera, Kiera in turn was gaining on Thuviel and Galzra again, and flying far easier than before. When Corrin glanced up, he saw that Thuviel had sacrificed his lead for the dubious pleasure of literally flying in a circle around Galzra. The gray dragon's roars were audible even from a distance, but he was still steadily plowing forwards through the air.

 _What is Shruikan doing?_ Kiera asked abruptly. Corrin had to lean around her neck again to see.

Just as Thuviel was levelling out to speed ahead again, Shruikan turned practically on his tail below and flew upwards too fast to have been relying only on his wings. _He must have caught an updraft,_ Kiera suggested. Shruikan did not run into Thuviel, but he did pass him close enough for the combination of surprise and turbulence to knock him sideways. Galzra folded his wings and dropped to avoid Thuviel crashing into him.

Kiera roared and threw herself forwards, her wings beating steady, deep blows to drive her forwards. Thuviel was distracted, turning to go after Shruikan, and Galzra had lost so much height that he would have to beat _up_ to land on the Court. The way was clear for Kiera to win, if she was fast enough.

Corrin pressed himself flat against her back, providing as little wind resistance as possible. The speed of the air rushing past made his eyes water, but he found himself grinning all the same. _Now_ this _is what it means to be a Rider,_ he joked, and felt the shadow of a laugh from Kiera.

Galzra was throwing himself forwards and up, but Kiera had the advantages of height and determination, and she pulled steadily ahead, the white marble of the Court growing closer and closer. The gray male made a final desperate lunge up and over the colonnade, but Kiera half-folded her wings and dove, landing on all fours and skidding across the stone.

 _I landed first,_ she announced triumphantly.

 _You had no control of the landing_ , protested Galzra.

 _That,_ Saphira corrected coolly, _was not the agreement. By the rules you set, she won. Glad to see you two could join us_ , she added, as Thuviel and Shruikan landed on either side of Glazra, eyeing each other narrowly.

 _Shruikan cheated,_ accused Thuviel, matter-of-factly.

 _Cheaters win,_ Shruikan replied succinctly. Thuviel snorted at him, but evidently decided to leave it alone.

As soon as Corrin had climbed down from Kiera's saddle, she flopped down onto the stone. _Tired,_ she thought at him.

 _Good,_ Saphira said. _It'll make you stronger. However, I think that will be enough for today; we'll work more on the morrow._

 _Aye,_ agreed Thorn, heaving his bulk up from the stone.

 _ **My biology class was having an off-topic discussion the other week about animals which can regrow body parts, including lizards, and somehow they snuck into this chapter. Also, Thuviel is a little bit of a show-off. Just saying ;).**_

 _ **Anyways, I very much enjoyed putting a little more Shruikan into this chapter, and I hope so far he remains an interesting character; he's certainly one of my favorites. I'm trying to settle into a regular update schedule, so if all goes well, I should be back this time next month with another update. Until then, please feel free to comment, and I hope everyone has a wonderful month!**_

 _ **P.S. 3/16/18: I have fixed several mistakes in the above commentary. Apparently I cannot spell.**_


	18. Chapter 18: Stories and Stars

_**Hello! I'm so, so sorry for being late with this chapter, but I was in southern Utah on March 15th, without my computer, and I didn't manage to get the chapter done early. Mea culpa. I am determined to get the next chapter up on time, however.**_

 _ **Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. It's not nearly as plot-driven as the last few updates, but I couldn't resist the ideas I had for writing it. Also, as you may or may not be able to see, I am going to start titling chapters, although I dont quite know where to enter the chosen title, so I'll need to do some experimenting.**_

 _ **Also: I didn't have an extremely long time to edit this, so if you see any spelling errors or inconsistencies that I've missed, please tell me. Any and all comments are a huge help, whether for editing issues or for criticism, and I appreciate everyone who takes the time to write. Enjoy!**_

Corrin lowered himself carefully to sit down on the stone, mindful of the spot where Leah had stabbed him during their bout. An apple-sized bruise was already forming. The Riders and a few elves were arranging themselves in a loose circle on the pavers of the Court. Across from him, Murtagh was in deep conversation with Yaela, while to one side Varog was whittling a chunk of wood with surprising delicacy. Leah sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring intently into the flame that someone was maintaining in the air with neither fuel nor embers.

"You'll want this," Blodhgarm said from somewhere over Corrin's shoulder, unceremoniously dropping a wooden goblet into his lap.

Corrin stared at it blankly for a moment. "What?"

Murtagh sat up a little to catch the goblet Blodhgarm threw in his direction, frowning down at it. "This is nice. What is it for?"

"Alastr," Blodhgarm announced grandly, "has a new vintage for us to sample tonight."

Everyone except Corrin and Murtagh groaned. Corrin noticed that one or two of the elves sitting nearby found excuses to rapidly disappear.

Murtagh gave Eragon an interrogative look, which was met with a shrug and a grimace. "Alastr has been attempting to reproduce faelnirv from our own plants for several years," Eragon explained. "It has, thus far, been less than successful."

 _I think it is fine,_ Saphira asserted.

Blodhgarm waved a hand dismissively. "You have no taste."

Saphira snorted smoke at him.

 _I would like to taste it anyways_ , Kiera said, stretching her neck out to put her head next to Corrin. _I only got to have faelnirv once or twice in Ellesmera._

"Sure," Eragon said, "but on the off chance that it is actually a decent vintage, only one glass for each of you. I have enough to deal with from Saphira and her mead."

Varog made a deep chuffing noise as he laughed. Leah tilted her head thoughtfully. "I thought only wine had a vintage," she observed.

"No, I think there are other drinks which have vintages," Murtagh said. "Maybe it pertains to any fermented drink?"

"Well, you don't exactly hear the phrase 'fine vintage of mead' in use," Leah argued.

Corrin tuned them out as Blodhgarm returned to his field of view carrying an uncorked skin. The furred elf poured a generous amount into each of their goblets before sitting down and pouring for himself. Holding up his cup, he announced grandly in the common tongue, "Let us drink and die together!"

Eragon lifted his own drink with a resigned expression. "Ilf gauhnith," he pronounced jokingly.

Leah grinned laconically. "No, Ebrithil," she lectured, laughing, "you're supposed to say that _after_ you drink."

"Fair enough." Eragon shrugged and took a generous mouthful. A second later he spat out a fountain of liquid. "Agh!" he yelped, flailing his free arm. "Eta ilf gauhnith! Ilf gauhnith eta! Yaela! How do I say that correctly?"

Yaela was staring down into her cup with a censorious eye. "This does not even remotely taste like faelnirv."

Leah laughed at them both and took a sip from her own cup. Her entire face pinched as though she was sucking on a lemon.

Corrin tentatively drank from his own portion. It was awful. The drink tasted like rotten apples and scented soap, and was almost as flat as water. He forced himself to swallow, and offered the goblet to Kiera. She opened her mouth wide for him to pour directly onto her tongue.

 _Ugh_ , she grumbled unhappily, running her tongue in and out of her mouth to clear some of the taste. _I agree with Yaela-elda._

 _Me too,_ Corrin said, gingerly setting the wooden goblet to the side.

Eragon was tasting again, wincing. "Saphira, this reminds me of that Urgal wine we had in Nar Garzvog's village."

"I think," Varog rumbled thoughtfully, "I should be insulted by that."

"Don't bother," Leah advised. "As terrible as your people's wines are, this is still worse."

Varog leaned over and shoved her hard enough to spill her drink. Thuviel snorted at her in amusement.

Eragon raised an eyebrow at the two apprentices. "Don't injure yourselves too horribly," he ordered. "We are all getting back on the usual training schedule tomorrow. That includes sparring." He frowned suddenly and reached into a pocket. "That reminds me; Corrin, catch." He tossed a small wooden bauble across the fire to Corrin, who fumbled to catch it. "Wind that up every day and it will wake you up at the correct time."

Corrin nodded, weighing the bauble in one hand. "And the correct time is?"

"Early," groaned Leah.

Eragon shrugged unsympathetically. "It's healthy for you to rise with the sun."

"Doesn't feel healthy," Leah grumbled.

Varog nodded his great horned head. "And what if we ever want to stay up late, eh? Look at the stars, or something?"

 _Look at the stars?_ Saphira asked amusedly.

"Well," Leah offered logically, "They are different here."

"Are they?" Murtagh asked, tipping his head back to look. Corrin glanced up as well, but he knew too little of stargazing to be able to discern the difference.

Leah nodded enthusiastically. "We're looking at a different part of the sky here than any you can see in Alagaesia. Look," and she extended her arm to point at a particularly bright star just visible over the shoulder of the mountain. "That's Aiedail; back in Alagaesia it wouldn't have been visible until past midnight, unless you were _way_ high up."

Corrin felt Kiera's attention shift back to Eragon. _Lady Arya said that you and Saphira once flew that high, and that you saw the world was round._

Murtagh spun around to look at Eragon. "You two did _what_?" he demanded.

"Did I never tell you about that?" Eragon asked. Murtagh shook his head.

"You should tell it now," Varog rumbled, holding up the chunk of wood in his hands to examine it. "Is good story."

Eragon shifted to sit cross-legged on the stone, glancing thoughtfully at the sky. "Alright, well," he began, "this was towards the end of the war, right after Nasuada had been captured. I had been given a, well, prophecy isn't the right word, but Angela's werecat Solembum had told me about several actions and locations that I might need in my journeys. One of these was the Rock of Kuthian, and after Solembum and I discussed it…"

Corrin listened avidly as Eragon continued, through the discovery of a spell of forgetfulness, through a journey northwards along the Spine, and through the choice to fly on from Tierm, through the night and into the storm. Blodhgarm added his testimony as they described how they had hid Saphira and Eragon's disappearance, but otherwise the only sound besides the crackling of the magic-fuelled flames was Eragon's voice, conjuring up images of the great storm cloud and the curving horizon, lit like the edge of a sword.

As Eragon and Saphira jointly narrated their memories of the height of their climb, Corrin more felt than heard Kiera sitting up behind him. He turned partly around to see her with her neck stretched out to look up at the stars. As the conversation continued around the fire, Corrin got up and walked to his partner, placing a hand on the smooth scales. He tipped his own head back, feeling their minds meld until the stars took on a reddish tinge as her sight blended with his. Kiera curled her tail around the two of them, and they stood there for a while, listening and watching, the few sparks ascending towards the wheeling of the heavens.

 _ **This chapter was mostly a bit of fluff between the last update and the first day of training, but I'm glad I was able to include some of the characters and stories from the books. It's always nice to access the mythos of the world that way. I intend to have the next chapter posted by April 15th; until then, please feel free to comment, and I hope everyone has an excellent month!**_


	19. Chapter 18: A New Day

_**Managed to get this done on time! Yay! Hope everyone had a good half-month, or however long it's been since the last update. I've been extremely busy, which is why I had to rush this week to get this update done. Because of that, I did not have excellent editing time, so if anyone finds any continuity errors, spelling issues, etc., please comment and point them out so I can fix them. As ever, I also welcome comments on any other subject, especially constructive criticism, and I hope you all enjoy!**_

The shrilling of the alarm Eragon had given him yanked Corrin out of a sound sleep. For the second morning in a row, it took a minute for him to figure out where he was. He blinked repeatedly and sat up blearily. Directly across from him, the mound of eggshell-colored scales filling the next cell of the colonnade shifted enough to reveal a glaring red eye. _Make. It. Quiet,_ Kiera demanded.

 _I am working on it,_ he informed her, fumbling for the small bauble. When it at last ceased to make abominably loud noises, Corrin glanced around and ran one hand through his rumpled hair. _Um. Training!_ He scrambled out of bed as his thoughts finally began to catch up with his scattered memories.

Kiera watched him tolerantly as he skidded to a stop in the middle of the room and spun around, looking for his boots. _Put on a clean shirt, too,_ she advised.

 _Yes, dear,_ Corrin replied, yanking on presentable clothing. As soon as he was respectably attired, he dashed out the "door" of his open-sided room, clipping a supporting column with a shoulder and almost falling. "Sands and stones," he hissed under his breath.

 _Graceful._

Corrin glared at her. _You have to get up too, you know._

 _Yes. But first I will enjoy your absurdity._ Kiera radiated amusement at him, so instead of retorting, Corrin straightened up and marched toward Calarel's kitchen area with as much dignity as he could muster, grumbling in the privacy of his own thoughts about smug dragons and early mornings. After a moment, he heard Kiera heave herself up to go out as well.

Calarel looked up with a smile as soon as Corrin stuck his head into the kitchen. "Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully. "Care for something to eat?"

"Yes, please," Corrin said, smiling back.

Calarel ladled something into a bowl, put the bowl and several pieces of buttered bread on a plate, and shooed Corrin into the next room, where Eragon was sitting at a wooden table looking dangerously close to falling asleep in his bowl. Corrin pulled out a chair and started in on his own meal.

He was so focused on spooning what turned out to be a kind of oat porridge into his mouth that he completely missed Murtagh joining them. He only looked up when Leah walked into the room, grinning widely, and brightly said, "Good morning, Corrin, Murtagh, Ebrithil. Isn't it a lovely day? I just love starting off a day of training with Calarel's excellent cooking, don't you!"

Eragon pointed his spoon at her and pinned her with a scathing look. Leah beamed innocently at him. Corrin stifled a laugh.

"Stop that," rumbled Varog from behind her. "Is too crowded in here. I want to go sit outside, and you are in my way."

Leah winked at Corrin and then ducked out onto the Court, deftly balancing her plate in one hand. Varog followed her, inclining his great horned head towards Eragon.

Eragon sighed and spooned up more of his meal. "Morning people," he grumbled, his tone making the words a curse and eliciting a chuckle from Murtagh. Corrin distinctly heard someone else snickering from the direction his fellow trainees had gone.

 _ ***dragons*dragons*dragons***_

To Corrin's surprise, instead of having them do the Rimgar or study in the ancient language or something similar, once the morning meal had been finished, Eragon rounded the three apprentices and Murtagh up and led all of them through the mirror room and out into the woods surrounding the Court. At first Corrin thought they might be headed towards the door that led to the Eldunari, but a fork in the path instead began winding up the mountain, towards thicker, older growth. Eragon and Murtagh went first, having some conversation inaudible to the rest, and Leah, Varog, and Corrin walked behind, far enough to be able to talk amongst themselves in a little knot.

Corrin was broken out of his contemplation of the path after a few minutes by Leah's voice. "What about some historical figure from farther back than the Rider War? Heslant, or something?"

"Mount Heslant?" Varog rumbled, testing the name. "Heslant Mountain? Or perhaps Mountain of the Monk?"

"Do you two do this every morning?" Corrin asked.

Leah turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Of course!" she said, favoring him with a conspiratorial grin. Corrin felt a sudden flush creep up his neck. "It's an important topic, after all," she continued.

"Names have power," Varog added simply.

Leah nodded. "And, besides, the Riders will likely live on or by this mountain for centuries. It should have a suitable name, something that will fit the future that will grow here."

"The future?" Corrin asked.

She hopped over a root and glanced up towards the rounded peak. "We three and our masters are the first of a new order: it's up to us to rebuild the Riders the right way. In my opinion, that includes making sure our home is sufficiently impressive to hear about." She waved a hand around them. "Probably some wit will eventually give this place a nickname that will become common usage, but I think it should have some solemnity to it, also."

"Oi!' Eragon called from where he and Murtagh had steadily drawn ahead. "Keep up!" Corrin glanced up and saw that the two older Riders had stopped in the shadow of a grove of oaks whose branches had grown together into a woven thicket. It reminded him vaguely of the dogwood tunnel to Rhunon's forge: he suspected more than a little magic had influenced this place. Even as he watched, Eragon turned and entered the leafy tunnel. A moment later, light flickered between the leaves as he summoned a werelight.

That gave Corrin a thought. "Can either of you use magic?" he asked of his companions, both of whom were walking a bit ahead of him.

The two turned almost as one to look at him, and then at each other. Then Leah shrugged and stooped to pick up a small chunk of rock from the roots of the nearby trees. With Corrin watching avidly, she focused on the stone held at waist height and said firmly, "Stenr rïsa!"

The uneven pebble rose soundlessly to hover about six inches above her palm. Leah grinned at Corrin's expression. "Varog can, too," she told him, holding out her hand and the floating rock with it for his examination.

Corrin put his hand through the space between her palm and the rock, as he would to check if a street charlatan was using some unseen mechanism to lift the stone. There was none. He put his hand on top of the pebble and pushed down. The distance between it and Leah's hand did not change, but her arm itself dipped slightly before she pushed back.

"That is incredible," he told her finally, stepping back.

Leah nodded excitedly, and then returned her attention to the rock once more. "Ganga," she said confidently.

The pebble shot from her hand and went flying into the undergrowth with several audible crashes and snaps. All three of them froze.

"Control, Leah," Eragon's dry voice advised from behind the branches. "Magic is all about control."

"Yes, Ebrithil," Leah said, wincing.

 _ ***dragons*dragons*dragons***_

The tunnel of oak branches was actually fairly long. At infrequent intervals they passed alcoves grown out of the branches with a tree stump, a flat rock, or a circle of grass inside. Each time they passed one, Eragon assigned one of their little party to it. As Corrin surmised during this process, these were meditation spots such as the elves in Ellesmera had used. First Murtagh and then Leah and Varog were given alcoves, until Eragon and Corrin were walking alone to the next spot. When they reached it, Eragon ducked inside and gestured for Corrin to follow.

"Sit," he said. "It's time for your first proper lesson."

This particular alcove had a tree stump; Corrin sat cross-legged as he had seen the elves do when working or thinking.

"Good," Eragon told him. "This is what we do every morning in order to train our minds. Arya and Firnen were teaching you to defend your mind while in Ellesmera, and that was wise and necessary, but now I'm going to ask you to do the opposite. Close your eyes, open your mind, and listen."

Corrin nodded affirmative. "Alright." He paused and frowned. "Listen to what?"

Eragon looked like he was suppressing a smile. "The world around you," he said. "Every living thing in this glade." His eyes became distant for just a moment. "Listen, and when you hear no more, come tell me what you have learned." With that cryptic statement, he turned and left the alcove of branches, leaving Corrin to his own devices.

Corrin closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The walls around his mind lowered easily enough. He wasn't very good at keeping them up anyway, in all honesty.

He focused and _listened._

 ** _I'm a little unhappy with the last line, but I've failed repeatedly to come up with a better option, so I'm going with it. I don't have much to talk about this month, so I'll just say that I've hopefully returned to a regular update schedule, so the next chapter should be up next month. Until then, I hope everyone is well and enjoying the fic!_**


	20. Chapter 19, New Riders, New Lessons

_**I want to apologize profusely for missing last month's update; I was right in the middle of my exams and I just had too much on my plate. Thankfully, it is now my summer vacation, so I hope to be able to write a lot more and get ahead for the next time I run out of time. Until then, I hope everyone enjoys this update, and as always thank you so much to everyone who comments, follows, or favorites! I really appreciate it.**_

Corrin rubbed at his temples, trying to quiet his nagging headache. As it turned out, meditating with the thoughts of every living thing around pressing in on you was not quiet in the slightest. He had sat for over an hour and a half, alternating between struggling to open his mental walls and wincing away from the cacophony of the forest around him, before Eragon had collected him on the way back down the mountain. Each of the three students were required to recite to Eragon everything they had heard during the meditation (Corrin's observations were embarrassingly the shortest and most basic) before he led them back to the Court for their other lessons.

They had arrived just in time to catch the dragons as they returned from a quick morning hunt. From the other apprentices, Corrin had picked up that all the morning lessons were of a variety that both the dragons and their Riders needed to learn; they didn't separate into their lessons for flying and fighting until after the midday meal. The dragons had dropped to land on the stone of the Court in a mosaic of colorful wings, and Corrin had had one of the (decreasingly common) moments in which he could not believe the turn his life had taken. Really, what was he, the common-born son of a blacksmith, doing here, among creatures and people out of legend?

Snapping out of said moment, however, he had noticed that the flutter of jewel-toned wings did not include any glimpse of black. Again, he recoursed to picking at the hints in Leah and Varog's conversation, and deduced that like the apprentices' earlier debate on the nomenclature of the mountain, it was a daily habit for Shruikan to fly solo while the Shur'tugal trained. Though he sometimes showed up to take part in flying practice, he mostly hunted around the lake and explored the mountains to the north and south.

Corrin hadn't had long to ponder that, however, before his attention was needed for other things. Now he and his companions were sitting cross-legged on the floor inside one of the cell-rooms in the east colonnade, whilst the silver-haired elf Yaela leaned against a table in front of them. Corrin knew that Kiera and the other two apprenticed dragons were reclining on the stone outside, close enough to listen as Ebrithil Yaela talked. Even as Corrin returned his hands to his lap, headache only slightly alleviated, Eragon ducked inside to stand against one column, and Murtagh followed to hover hesitantly in the opposite corner.

"Now that we're all here," Yaela intoned, shifting her weight to stand fully in front of the five Riders, "we can get started. It is the opinion of your masters and the senior spellcasters in the Court that the Riders' approach to communication needs... adjustment.

"The Riders of Vroengard were originally an organization comprised only of members of the Elven race, and even after humans were included in the pact, the Riders' magic was the hallmark of their power and skill. As such, the ancient language was the mother tongue, so to speak, of Vroengard and its inhabitants." Yaela glanced out towards the dragons as she spoke. "The extinction and now reconstruction of this order, however, necessitates a change in the Riders' approach to languages. As you all know already, the Riders Pact now includes not only elves and humans but dwarves and urgals as well. As such, the ancient language alone is no longer sufficient for you to discharge your responsibilities. The new Riders will have a duty to protect and serve all peoples of Alagaesia, and for that, you need to learn the relevant languages.

"Because new trainees will be included in the existing class, it serves no purpose for me to teach you one language at a time, sequentially, when new students will constantly be coming in. As such, every dragon and Rider currently sitting here will attend class in this room every day, and each individual will be expected to practice each of the four languages at least once a day. Clear?"

Yaela glanced at Corrin, and he jumped as he remembered that this lecture was mostly aimed at him and his dragon. "Yes, Ebrithil," he answered hurriedly, for both himself and Kiera.

"Good," Yaela said firmly. "Let's begin. Leah, I want you to start Corrin in the dwarven language. Go through some basic useful phrases, teach him the correct pronunciation, and such. Kiera, you listen to the two of them; I'll join you three in a minute. Thuviel, Galzra, I want you to quiz each other on the verb groups in the ancient language that we discussed last class. Varog, keep working with Ebrithil Eragon on teaching him the urgal tongue." Having delivered her instructions, Yaela turned and pointed one finger at Murtagh. "You and Thorn I'll evaluate myself; I only accept fluency in the ancient language if I've witnessed it firsthand." Murtagh looked more than a bit apprehensive, but nodded.

As Yaela advanced on the hapless Murtagh, Leah moved to sit cross-legged in front of Corrin. "So!" she began cheerfully. "Are you excited?"

Corrin was already dreading starting not one, but two new languages, but he managed to smile gamely. "Sure," he said. "It certainly sounds like it will be, um, interesting."

Leah gave him an amused look, but Kiera thankfully rescued him. _I was more interested in her speech beforehand_ , she commented, radiating curiosity, _about the old Riders and why they relied so much on the ancient language. We didn't get to learn much in Ellesmera about the histories, and almost nothing about Vroengard. I assume we learn more here?_

" _Oh, absolutely,"_ Leah answered with both voice and mind. " _We have an entire class just devoted to learning about the history of Alagaesia. Invidia teaches it, and she's really good; she actually has a system where we learn in a cycle of races and regions, so if you started with, say, the human population in Palancar valley, you'd learn about the rest of the human kingdoms, and then the elven cities inside and outside Du Weldenvarden, and then the other two races and the Riders, until eventually the class got back to learning about Palancar valley again. Invidia's old enough that she was alive for some parts of the histories she teaches, so she gives us a lot of detail, and she encourages us to discuss during lessons and try to come to our own conclusions about the history."_

 _That sounds fascinating,_ Kiera replied. _When can we start?_

Leah laughed. "We go over to her… cell? alcove? ...room as soon as we finish language lessons," she told Kiera. "Speaking of which, I'm supposed to be teaching you both phrases in the dwarven language, so… we could do the history-related phrases I know,if you like."

"Will Yaela be alright with that?" Corrin asked, sufficiently familiar with Leah now to be a little suspicious of her suggestions.

Leah shrugged. "She said 'basic phrases', which leaves me a lot of room for creative interpretation. Anyways, she also said 'I'll join you three in a minute', which means she'll be personally frog-marching us through her intended work. A smart woman and a good teacher, our Yaela is, but she does not do delegation well."

 _That's_ Ebrithil _Yaela to our unenlightened selves_ , Thuviel interjected tolerantly, with an edge of amusement that suggested he was referencing a prior conversation.

Leah waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah," she answered unconcernedly, before leaning forwards. "Now, to start with, the dwarves have a couple different words for the word 'history', each with a different connotation…"

 _ **Ah, ye olde language classes :( Sorry, Corrin. Unlike the last few updates, I did have the time to edit this properly, but I still want to be sure I haven't missed anything, so if anyone notices any continuity errors or issues with grammar/spelling, please comment and I will fix it immediately. Otherwise, I hope everyone is having a great June, and I will be back at most next month with the next chapter!**_


	21. Chapter 20: From a Certain Point of View

_**At long last, another chapter.**_

 _ **I am really, truly sorry about how long it has taken me to get this chapter finished and uploaded. I started in early July and promptly ran face-first into really bad writer's block, and then I started school again and ever since I've been battling through the most busy semester I've ever had. On top of having no time to even sleep, much less write, this chapter has been singularly difficult to finish. The version I'm posting here is the sixth complete rewrite and seventh draft I wrote, and I literally only finished it last night. I did finish, though, and the semester ends next week, so I am determined to write as much ahead as possible over the holiday. And the long hiatus did me some good; I fixed the last big plot hole for this fic, and now the only thing left is for me to actually write the chapters. I plan to go back to a regular update schedule from now on, and if I can I may even post more often. Until then, thank you so much for your patience while I was writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy!**_

Unlike Yaela, Invidia held her lessons out on the paving stones of the Court, with the dragons and their Riders sprawled in a loose semicircle around her. Corrin was sitting in the hollow of Kiera's neck, keeping a hold on the spines to either side for balance. Leah was reclining on the ground parallel to her dragon, propping herself up on an elbow, and Varog sat on a coil of Galzra's tail. Saphira had chosen to absent herself from this lesson, though Eragon and Murtagh both stood by Thorn, a little ways behind the six apprentices.

Invidia herself, the dark-haired elf woman who Corrin had met in the mirror room the previous day, was seated comfortably on a padded stool. "Good morrow. As about half of you already know, we are picking up the lesson cycle about where we started when I first began teaching this class, with the history of Vroengard and the Riders. Corrin, Kiera, I believe in a discussion-based teaching method, and since you two are the newest I'll be picking on you first. Can either of you tell me just what it was that the Riders did?"

Corrin gulped and sat up straighter. "Well," he started hesitantly, "they were warriors, of course. It was their job to stop wars and to protect people against…" Kiera stopped him from saying 'Urgals', and Corrin belatedly remembered that Varog was sitting only feet away. "Ah, against creatures like the Ra'zac."

"That was very good," Varog commented from his seat, "almost no pause at all. But you can say also that they were defending from my people. I am not ashamed."

Corrin felt himself flush red with embarrassment, but Invidia rescued him. "Were the Riders only warriors, then?"

 _No_ , Kiera interjected. _They were also scholars, and messengers, and… healers, maybe?_

"They were indeed," Invidia agreed, before looking around. "Anyone else want to contribute?"

"Linguists?" suggested Leah.

Invidia frowned thoughtfully. "True, to an extent, but don't forget that in those days Riders only really needed to learn the ancient language and perhaps the human tongue."

 _Judges_ , rumbled Galzra.

Invidia nodded. "All good answers, and all true, but also all things that could just as easily be done by those who weren't Riders. I'm looking for something that only the Riders could do effectively across nations and races. It has to do with why the Riders were created in the first place."

The apprentices were all silent for a moment, glancing at each other in hopes of a hint. "Think it through," Invidia suggested. "The Riders were formed in the wake of…?"

 _The Rider War_ , Kiera filled in, clearly struggling to make the connection Invidia was looking for. _And, the Riders were formed to connect the two races, and… to.. prevent another war? Between elves and dragons?_

"Exactly." Invidia said quietly. "The Riders, first and foremost, are peacekeepers.

"The order of the Riders was created in the aftermath of what we elves still consider the most devastating war in our history, by the two individuals who, against all odds, brought it to a peaceful close. The job of a Rider is to pick up a sword in times of war, yes, and also negotiate their endings and to judge those who are guilty when the conflict subsides, but most of all it is their duty to stop the wars before they happen. They may fight, or study, or heal, or judge, but they do so for the ultimate goal of preventing conflict in the land.

"That is why you six must study history. How can you negotiate a peace between two groups, whether of differing races or the same, if you haven't bothered to learn their beliefs and point of view?" Invidia pinned Varog with a sharp eye. "Varog, rulers of human nations often enforce peace after a conflict by ordering the belligerents to surrender their arms; how do you think your tribe would react if someone tried to deal with them the same way?"

Varog snorted with harsh amusement. "We would kill them, of course, and perhaps if they died with courage we might not seek revenge for the insult."

"And Leah," Invidia continued, shifting focus, "if your people heard of a human tribe doling out such a punishment to an envoy, what would they do or think?"

"They'd want to punish the ones who killed the herald," Leah replied, glancing sideways at Varog, "probably by executing them in turn."

Invidia nodded. "You begin to see my point. Leah, Varog, Corrin, all of you grew up inundated in a certain culture, and your dragons, to an extent, have picked up the traits of those cultures from you. However, you are Shur'tugal now, and in order to do the job that the Riders were created for, you have to learn about and empathize with the cultures of all the races you administer to. And I say 'empathize' with a specific intent, just as I have this talk at the beginning of the lessons on Vroengard for a specific intent, because in some ways the Riders of Vroengard failed in that task."

It took Corrin a moment to process that, and then he sat up so quickly he nearly slid down off Kiera's back. " _What?_ "

Invidia opened her mouth to reply, but Kiera beat her to it. _I think you must explain further, Ebrithil, for I do not understand you in the slightest_. Her words were polite, but there was an edge of tension in her thoughts that told Corrin she was upset.

"Certainly," Invidia answered. "If the duty of the Riders was to maintain the peace, then the rise of Galbatorix and the Forsworn is indisputably a failure, because the events that followed were arguably the most destructive war since Du Fyrn Skulblaka."

Corrin gaped. "But that wasn't the Rider's fault!"

Invidia cocked an eyebrow at him. "Wasn't it? They failed to empathize well enough with Galbatorix to know what he would do when they denied him a new dragon. They also failed to notice the seeds of madness in him before his dragon's death if they were present."

Leah raised a hand to object. "But he can't have been mad before, or else Jarnunvosk would never have chosen him."

"They do not do it often, Leah," Invidia corrected quietly, "but the dragons _can_ choose wrongly. Or they may be just as flawed as any human, elf, dwarf, or urgal. Take the Wyrdfell, for instance, if we set aside Galbatorix for a moment; they all, Riders and dragons both, chose to betray their order without even the excuse of grief over such a terrible loss as Rider or dragon. Some did it for cruelty or greed, all flaws which the Riders had overlooked and allowed to fester among members of their ranks, and others did it because, as they claimed, the Riders had already lapsed in their duties."

 _Had they?_ interjected Galzra, strangely calm in the midst of the rapidly heating debate.

Invidia tilted her head to one side, thinking. "It's possible," she conceded lightly. "Certainly even the scholars of the time had started to notice that with Alagaesia relatively at peace, most of any Rider's time was spent either on Vroengard or being entertained in lavish fashion among the free races, and some elder Riders never left the island at all in peacetime. And, sad to say, there is a little truth to that claim Galbatorix always made, that the Riders hoarded their knowledge in their strongholds."

Thuviel snorted. _But even if the Forsworn's cause might have been valid, their methods certainly were not! There should have been a solution which did not involve wholescale war and genocide._

"That is sentiment of weakness," Varog said firmly. "There are problems which are not to be solved with diplomacy, especially if the opponent is too arrogant to listen, which I strongly suspect the old Riders would be."

"So you think the Forsworn were justified?!" Corrin demanded.

"No. But Thuviel spoke of a hypothetical, where the Forsworn truly believed that the Riders were failing in their duties. Among my people, to challenge those you believe to be in the wrong is… an honor, a… agh, I do not know the word," and then he turned to Invidia and growled a short phrase in the urgal tongue.

Invidia frowned. " I know the concept," she said. " Civic duty might be a good translation, or civic responsibility."

 _Civic responsibility, then_ , Thuviel acceded, _but the application of violence, particularly on the scale the Forsworn used, is at the least straying into unreasonable reaction._

 _From a certain point of view_ , rumbled Galzra.

' _From a certain point of view' does not and should not excuse an issue with the moral weight of the actions of the Fall,_ Kiera stated flatly.

"Agreed," Invidia interrupted, "and let us stop there for now. I suspect the subject will come up many more times, but at this moment let me simply repeat that understanding and empathy are necessary in Shur'tugal; understanding and empathy not just for the free races you are bound to protect, but for each other as well.

"You are the guardians of Alagaesia, but there is no one to guard you but each other. Galbatorix and his Forsworn weren't born evil. In the beginning they, humans, elves, and dragons alike, were students, no different that you all. So it is you six and those who come after you who must ensure that the next Galbatorix is not sitting at this moment before me. History has patterns, and if you study them hard enough, you might just be able to help avoid the consequences when time brings them round again."

 _ **Three points about this chapter.**_

 _ **First, I know that at the end there Varog was very articulate compared to how I've previously written him, so keep in mind that this debate goes on in the ancient language and that Varog speaks that language way better than he does the human tongue.**_

 _ **Second, Corrin has a reaction to Invidia's lecture pretty much identical to when Oromis first plays devil's advocate with Eragon, but that was purposeful. I decided that since this story is going on only five years after Galbatorix's death, there wouldn't really have been time for public opinion to mellow, so characters, especially those not from the Empire, would still have the knee-jerk reaction that Corrin displays.**_

 _ **Third, on top of being the devil's advocate, Invidia is also arguing a common phenomenon after wars called the Revisionist argument. This usually occurs a few years/decades after the conclusion of a war, in which historians start to question the history written by the victors of a conflict and to consider the victor's culpability. Although the main scholarship of Alagaesia hasn't reached that point yet, Invidia is centuries old and has seen the phenomenon enough times to predict it and guess what it will say about the Fall and the Rider War. One example in the real world is the Cold War between the USA and the USSR, where the American historians originally placed all responsibility for the Cold War on the USSR, but then after the Vietnam War had turned public opinion against the US's interventionist policy, historians started to question whether the US might have shared responsibility for the hostilities. On an unrelated note, guess what I've been learning in my history class! :P**_

 _ **As always, I appreciate every word of constructive criticism, so if there was something you liked or didn't like in this chapter, or you noticed any mistakes in editing or consistency, please feel free to let me know!**_


	22. Chapter 21

_**Voila! I have returned with more character development. This is a stupidly long chapter, but it has taken the entire two months to get right and I am determined to post it on time. So, I hope you all enjoy the overlong chapter, and please feel free to comment and let me know what you think!**_

"Ah, I see we've got another bookworm here," Leah said by way of greeting, leaning around the doorway. "Invidia will be thrilled."

Corrin glanced up from the scroll in his hands to find his fellow Rider grinning. He sat in one of several cells in the west colonnade devoted to storing scrolls and books that Eragon and the elves had brought along from Alagaesia. Corrin wasn't much of a reader; he still struggled with the flowing letters of the elven script. However, the afternoon's lessons in fighting and later flying had been as challenging as they were exhilarating, and he was physically exhausted. Because he could not yet participate in learning magic, the last lesson of the day, Eragon had let him go early to the three hour free time that was allotted to the apprentices daily, and Corrin had decided to go explore some of the less active entertainments of the Court.

Now, as he glanced past Leah, he saw that the light outside had darkened towards the blue hues of twilight. "Just investigating," he assured her. "I wanted to see what you all did for fun besides debate ethics and beat new apprentices black and blue."

Leah laughed. "I see," she replied, and then tilted her head in the direction of the outdoors. "In that case, perhaps you'd like to accompany me. The library is great, but there's plenty more to do that we haven't had time to show you."

Corrin, curious, set the scroll back in the honeycombed shelf and followed Leah out through the archway. The dragons were out hunting for an evening meal, so the Court was actually empty at the moment, rather than simply seeming empty because of its sheer size. Leah led him straight out across the expanse of stone, towards the looming silhouette of the unnamed mountain.

"So," Leah asked as they walked, "how are you liking the Rider's Court, now that you've had a full day of lessons?"

"It's good," Corrin replied, picking up speed to match Leah's long-legged stride. "There're a lot of lessons on things I hadn't ever considered that a Rider would need. A lot of lessons in general, actually; I've a lot to do to catch up with you and Varog."

Leah shrugged. "You'll do fine; if it makes you feel better, you've already had about as hard a day as we get. And we do get some variety. Every eighth day Eragon takes us out into the wilderness to learn woodcraft, and once a month we and the dragons spend a day helping ferry building materials from the quarry a few miles south of here."

Corrin winced, imagining a long day of hauling stone. Leah must have seen his face, because she laughed. "It's not as bad as all that. The dragons and senior magic users are the ones who actually have to move the stuff. And Varog usually volunteers to do any other heavy lifting, the lunatic."

Corrin chuckled. "Where is Varog, anyway?"

"Out in the woods looking for fallen branches and the like," Leah answered, glancing through the colonnade to their right at the treeline. "He whittles, if you can believe it. Apparently it's a common pastime among the Urgals."

"Huh. That's neat." Corrin searched for some more interesting reply. "Whittling, not carving?"

"Yep. He's very insistent on the difference whenever I ask him that." At Corrin's curious look, Leah elaborated. "It's actually fairly interesting; whittling is usually just done with a knife, whereas…" and she launched into a lecture on the details of Varog's hobby.

The conversation carried them across the Court and into the woods to the east. By the time Leah finished, they were nearly to where one of the great stone doors of the new Vault of Souls hung ajar.

"...anyways, Varog is going to try and teach me more during Dashelgr. You're welcome to join us, if you'd like." Leah eyed the bulk of the mountain before she entered.

"Dashelgr?" Corrin glanced at her, frowning, as they stepped into the shadowy passageway bored into the mountain.

"You didn't-?" Leah began, but cut herself off abruptly, shaking her head. "Of course not, Kiera only hatched in the autumn. Dashelgr is an elven festival that happens in early summer, about four weeks from now. The elves all spend the night singing, in our case to the forest and plains, encouraging it to grow strong for the year ahead. That's important for us, because the land here isn't automatically prepared to support so many dragons eating through the prey populations. We have to build up the prey populations and the food supplies to sustain them, so that when we do have dozens or hundreds of dragons here, there'll be enough to go around."

"Ah," Corrin murmured, blinking. "I'd… never thought of that before."

"Neither had I," Leah admitted, "but Blodhgarm gets to lecturing about it whenever this time of year comes around. You'll probably hear that same spiel from him before too long."

"It did sound very, um, rehearsed." Corrin bit his tongue immediately after the words left his mouth, realizing that could be construed as a criticism.

Fortunately, Leah laughed aloud instead of taking umbrage. "In my defense, there really isn't much else to do here than talk about these things." She turned to gesture back up the passageway. "In Vroengard of old, I hear they had to isolate their newer apprentices up in the mountains because there were so many distractions in Doru Araeba. We, on the other hand, have very little in the way of entertainment besides what's in the Court itself. Hard to run off to anyplace in the veritable middle of nowhere."

 _All the better for you to train_ , Umaroth interjected, opening his mind to them as they descended.

Once again, Corrin's feet hurt by the time he reached the rune-adorned arch that led into the chamber of the eggs and Eldunari. This time, however, he entertained himself on the way by listening to Leah exchange greetings and news with the Eldunari who reached out to the two apprentices. It was clear that she came here often, though he'd forgotten to ask what for. As they entered, the metal dragon-man - Cuaroc, Corrin remembered his name was - stared across the room at them from his seat, but did not rise, evidently not feeling the need to challenge them.

Corrin followed Leah to a clear space near the well in the rock which provided light and heat to the subterranean chamber. His fellow apprentice lowered herself easily to sit cross-legged on the stone, and after a moment's hesitation Corrin joined her.

 _Something in particular you want to learn, Leah?_ Glaedr prompted.

Corrin shot a questioning look at Leah, who winked at him and then took a moment to think. "Vroengard," she said finally. "Show us Vroengard."

Corrin more felt than heard a thoughtful rumble from the minds of several Eldunari. He half-opened his mouth to speak, but closed it immediately as Umaroth's consciousness pressed closer and a stream of sights, sounds, sensations, and even tastes began to flow from the old dragon. He found that he was flying above blue-gray waves, the cavern of the Vault of Souls half-forgotten in the moment, with the smell of salt in his nostrils and the wind pressing against wings he had not had a heartbeat ago.

The cool-air-over-water tugged at him, but he beat steadily onwards as he covered the last leagues to Vroengard. The clouds were low today, shrouding the peaks and upper slopes of the island. Mist trailed down to the forested shores. The odor of pine needles and leaf mold wafted on the breeze, mingled with the scent of smoke from the tiny dock town that serviced the rare shipping between the island and the mainland. An orange dragon who he knew in passing was sprawled on a ledge above the wharf. He bellowed a greeting as he approached, and she lifted her head and sent back a wash of flickering yellow flame, a salute. Then he was past.

His wingbeats slowed and grew more powerful as he ascended up towards the clouds and the mountain pass which they hid. Vroengard was well-guarded, even from dragons,but Aras Thelduin was a mountain range, not a wall, and certain vales between the slopes had become highways over millenium, this one most of all. He still remembered flying along this path the first time he had come to Vroengard.

A startling flash of grief manifested at the memory-within-a-memory of flying with Vrael for the first time. It had been a long while since then, and with Vrael gone only he remained to recall-

Leah's hand closed on his like a vice, so hard that he was yanked from his melancholy, and Corrin remembered distantly that he was not Umaroth, the great white dragon, and that the grief which had been so consuming a moment ago was not his at all. The transition was startling, even dulled as it was by the continued overlay of thoughts and sensations not his own. He had one moment in which to glance at Leah and find her watching him with a steady gaze, and then the vision returned to dominate his awareness, though without the haze of grief.

He was in the clouds now, navigating a winding canyon between two invisible summits by a combination of instinct and memory. Thankfully the wind wasn't up. He had only his own speed to mind as he traversed the old route forwards and upwards, towards the open sky that he could sense far above.

A dragon's roar echoed from somewhere far ahead, and just as he began to seek for the noise he broke unexpectedly from the top of the cloud, into astonishingly bright sunlight. All around him he could see the glowing calderas of Aras Thelduin spearing up through the cloud bank and into the clear blue sky. The clouds themselves clung to the sides of the peaks, most of the grey mass held back by the bulk of the mountain range, so that a clear circle of sky gaped open above Doru Araeba. He winged swiftly past the trailing edge of the clouds, and there beheld the city cradled in the bowl of the mountains.

No city had ever been as great as the glittering-dragon-city at the heart of the Rider's homeland. Here was a center of civilization in Alagaesia, a place of learning and sanctuary that was reserved for the Riders and those they deemed worthy to live beside them. The elegant, jewel-adorned buildings swelled as he coasted nearer, the lake at the center of them glittered like beaten metal, and the sun glowed on the gem-like hides of more dragons than could be found anywhere else in the world. He roared with the joy of his homecoming, and half a dozen voices answered.

One of them echoed from his left, rather closer than the rest. A quick glance spotted wide golden wings flashing in the sunlight. He shifted his weight and let himself slide down the sky to where Glaedr was rising to meet him. His old friend's mind called out to him, and he could feel the greeting of both the gold dragon and his Rider…

But then it was as though the memory was dragged away, or as though a sheet of clear Surdan glass had interposed itself between the memory and him, and Corrin snapped back into awareness of his own mind even more abruptly than the first such intercession. His vision seems blurry, and he had to blink several times before he surmised that his human eyes were simply weaker than Umaroth's hawk-eyed gaze.

"Wh.." he started, too discombobulated to understand what had interrupted the immersive memory.

 _My apologies_ , murmured a vaguely familiar voice. He recalled it -her, rather- from his previous trip to the Vault, though it took him a moment to dredge her name up from his still-disorganized mind.

 _Ah… Agaravel-elda?_ he hazarded awkwardly. He sensed a sort of wordless assent from the elder dragon, which eh assumed meant he had in fact recalled her name correctly, but which clarified none of his disorientation. _I… I'm a bit confused-_

 _We know_ , rumbled a deep mental voice that was decidedly not Agaravel. Corrin startled, whipped his head around on instinct, and narrowly kept from shrieking when he found himself face to face with a glittering-eyed predator of shadow and ink. For one second it looked more like a nightmare than a dragon.

Shruikan, who must have joined them in the buried chamber while he and Leah were lost in the memory of Vroengard of old, watched Corrin with an air of bored patience until the Rider remembered how to breathe again. Then the black dragon stepped neatly around the space where Corrin and Leah sat, and continued on his way.

 _I did not mean to pull you back to yourself so abruptly_ , Agaravel continued, with an hint of remorse, _but it is better to take time to process what you have seen. One must remember which identity is yours and which are theirs._

 _Why?_ Corrin asked diffidently.

 _Easy to get lost_ , Shruikan rumbled from across the chamber. Corrin glanced over to find the young male scenting the air above a shelf of the eggs, as though checking on them, though what could possibly harm the substance which made up dragon eggs he couldn't fathom.

 _The Riders of old were always wary of letting new Riders spend too much time viewing the memories of others_ , Agaravel elaborated, continuing where Shruikan had left off. T _he mind, especially for a young creature, is easily influenced. There is always the concern that a Rider or dragon will delve too deeply into the memories of others, to the point where they forget their own life and identity._

Corrin shuddered, suddenly grateful that the two dragons had intervened. _Has such a thing happened before?_

 _Yes,_ came the curt reply. He felt a flicker from Agaravel, as something drew her attention elsewhere. _Your dragon seeks for you_ , she added distractedly.

 _Oh, but..._ Corrin began, glancing at where Leah sat, still engrossed in the lives of the Riders of old. He couldn't even truly articulate a reason for his reluctance, but that he did not want to go just yet. If there was danger in the memories of the Eldunari, then surely she should have someone watching out for her. And, too, the vision, however dangerous, had been intoxicating in its rich detail, full of the promise of knowledge unique to the Riders.

He didn't say it, but he was still prone to forget that any unguarded thought was open to this company. He felt Agaravel's focus shift back to him, and then, queerly, her thoughts softened with something very like amusement.

 _Do not forget that you have many years now to learn all that a Rider must be,_ she chided gently. _Go to your dragon now._ Agaravel paused briefly, and then amended, _If you return with her tomorrow, I will show you both all I know of Vroengard, this I promise._

 _I would like that,_ Corrin murmured. _And Leah?_

Agaravel rumbled amusement. _I will tell her where you have gone,_ she assured him. _Fear not for her. We are very careful with her mind, just as we are with yours._ Then the dragon was gone from his mind as suddenly as if she had never been there to start. Corrin cast another at Leah, still lost in another time, and at Shruikan who now sat catlike before the largest Eldunarí, and then departed in search of his dragon.

 _ **This chapter constitutes more or less the end of Corrin's 'introduction' to the Riders Court. There is going to be a time jump several weeks forward to Dashelgr, which will cover at least two and probably more chapters and will start moving the actual plot along again. I will try to have it ready by this date in March, but I plan to write all of the Dashelgr chapters together, so they may or may not be done in time. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, if you noticed any editing or consistency mistakes or have constructive criticism to offer, please let me know in the comments. I truly appreciate them.**_


	23. Chapter 23: Dashelgr

_**At long last, another chapter! I'm sorry for the long delay on this update, but exams, travel, and life events delayed the writing of the Dashelgr chapters. I will be posting the chapters once per day instead of all at once to allow me more editing time, but we have finally gotten to the point where the plot will really pick up. As always, I appreciate comments extremely, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

The weeks flew by almost unnoticed as Corrin adjusted to the rhythms of life at the Rider's Court. He was surprised by how much he enjoyed it. He continued to visit the Vault every few days, with and without Kiera, and Agaravel was one of several Eldunari whose memories he had shared. His lessons were hard, but the material was fascinating as well, and every teacher but Yaela was prone to diverting to long rambling conversations on any topic the apprentices seemed to find interesting. Even meditating was becoming enjoyable as he grew used to the presence of other minds.

His only regret was that he lagged so far behind Leah and Varog. Leah already spoke three languages fluently, and Varog was nearly done mastering a fourth, while Corrin was still slow and awkward in the ancient language, and unfortunately lacking in erudite vocabulary in his first tongue. In weapons training, he was even worse off. His meditations… well, suffice to say he had not caught up to the other two trainees yet.

Kiera, on the other hand, was flourishing, and Corrin took an unabashed pleasure in watching as she discovered what Saphira referred to as a particular skill for aerial menuevering. She was still not quite on the level of the other dragons, but she was rapidly closing the distance of skill which separated her from the other two apprentices, and meanwhile she had earned the respect of their teachers and their fellow students alike. While her new skills often put Corrin in danger of losing his lunch, he was incredibly proud of her for accomplishing so much in such a short time.

Kiera had not yet breathed fire, however, so on the day of Dashelgr, Eragon gave her the same wards that the two-legged apprentices were required to wear, which stopped all of them from hearing the song of the elves and prevented the magic from overtly affecting them.

Corrin had taken that to mean that they wouldn't feel any effects at all, but when he mentioned as much to Leah, she had shaken her head. "Not quite," she'd corrected. "The magic won't cause any dramatic changes in us, the way it will for the elves or the dragons, but there's still this energy in the air on the night of Dashelgr. You'll feel it, even if you aren't affected by it, and it's really hard to sleep while the ceremony is going on."

So, as the sun sank to the flat horizon of the plains, Corrin dressed in one of his nice lamaraye shirts and soft boots and made his way out to the southwestern corner of the Court, near the library. Not far from the apprentice quarters, he found Kiera already waiting near where Eragon was speaking to Leah, Varog, and, surprisingly, their dragons. By the time he approached, Leah was already speaking rapidly in the ancient language, and he caught just enough to guess that she was casting her own wards for the night, with Eragon supervising.

"Thuviel, Galzra," he greeted quietly, unwilling to chance distracting Leah. "I thought you two weren't required to have the wards tonight."

 _Not required_ , Galzra agreed, _but we decided to wear them anyway._

 _Yes. To go without is to chance embarrassing situations, isn't it?_ Thuviel added cheerfully.

 _Shut up_ , Galzra grumbled.

 _I don't see why we_ have _to wear wards_ , Kiera whined. _If you two are old enough to go without, then I should be too_. She lashed her tail, and Corrin could feel waves of plaintive jealousy and general irritation emanating from her mind. She'd been testy since yesterday, when Saphira had insisted that she had to take the wards, and Thuviel was perfectly happy to take advantage of that.

 _Well, little sister_ , Thuviel said gleefully, immediately putting Corrin on his guard, _there are two answers I could give you, depending on whether you'll get your widdle feewings hurt or not_. Corrin wasn't sure whether he'd learned it from Leah or not, but Thuviel could summon an incredibly condescending baby voice when he so desired. It never presaged good things.

Corrin winced, waiting for the inevitable reaction, and it came swiftly. _I don't need your fake pity_ , Kiera snarled, sitting up on her haunches in outrage.

 _Well, then, this is easy_ , Thuviel cheerfully announced. _You'll recall that the purpose of Dashelgr is to promote growth in all levels of the food chain-_

 _Your point?_ Kiera interjected.

 _I'm getting there_ , her companion assured her. _My point is that the way in which the growth of animal populations is promoted is, well… I don't suppose anyone has explained to you where eggs come from?_

Corrin had put his hands to his burning face to cover his eyes halfway through the sentence, but he could still feel the exact moment when Kiera realized what Thuviel was referring to. _Oh_ , she said in a strangled voice. Corrin tried extremely hard not to feel amused, which was easier than usual because of his crushing embarrassment.

 _If you're still confused perhaps Corrin would be willing to clarify it for you,_ Thuviel added slyly.

"He would not," Corrin mumbled, dropping his hands despite the heat that he could still feel in his cheeks and forehead.

 _Oh well. But anyway, you haven't breathed fire yet, so you aren't old enough at all and that's that on that_ , Thuviel concluded with the most self-satisfied head bob Corrin had ever seen, human or dragon.

"Alright, you, that's enough." Leah, with her usual excellent timing, saved Corrin from melting into the floor from embarrassment by walking directly under Thuviel to where the group was standing. "I don't know what you're tormenting poor Corrin and Kiera with, but I'm sure they don't deserve it… much." She winked at Corrin, who felt himself turning red all over again.

 _I wasn't tormenting them_ , Thuviel insisted primly. _We were having an academic discussion about, ah, procreation._

Leah looked at Thuviel, looked at Kiera, looked at Corrin, and burst out laughing.

Corrin began to wonder whether it was actually possible for his face to spontaneously catch fire. Leah had doubled in half and was cackling like a madwoman. Kiera had curled up on herself into a little cream-scaled ball and was glaring at Thuviel over the top of her wing. Galzra, still sitting next to her, just looked _very_ amused.

Leah, wheezing, finally straightened and wiped her watering eyes. "Well, I'm sure that was enlightening," she managed, clearly stifling another bout of guffaws.

 _Indeed,_ Galzra said mildly, _though I think everyone except Thuviel would like to change the subject now._

"Change the subject from what?" inquired Eragon as he walked up, Varog at his shoulder.

Leah lost her composure again.

Eragon squinted at her for a moment, then shook his head. "Forget it, I don't want to know. Corrin, Kiera, I'll do both of your wards myself, but since we're all here I thought I'd remind all of you of the ground rules." He paused significantly to cast a censorious glare towards Leah, who stopped laughing but still practically vibrated with mirth.

"Firstly, don't leave the Court. For any reason, really. Both plant and animal life are going to be unusually lively tonight, and I do not want any of you getting hurt by wandering around after dark. Secondly, don't spar. I realize that one of the side effects of the spellcraft is an excess of energy, but all six of you will have to find some other way to work it off than risking an injury."

"Thirdly…" he trailed off, looking like he was rephrasing in his head.

 _Don't do anything we wouldn't approve of_ , Saphira finished for him. Corrin hadn't seen her since earlier in the afternoon, but she was clearly in their general vicinity, and sure enough when he looked around she was draped sinuously across the top of the west colonnade.

Leah tilted her head to the side "So, if I decide that you would approve of-"

Eragon interrupted her with a raised hand. "If you have to ask, the answer is no."

Saphira lifted her head and glanced away from all of them. _It's almost sundown_ , she announced, _so I fear we will simply have to trust Leah not to twist the rules like bread dough_.

"Who, me?" Leah asked laughingly, meandering back towards Thuviel.

Eragon shook his head despairingly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he said, raising his voice as Leah retreated. "You should all understand that my expectation is that no fires, flood, or general disasters are going to happen around here while I'm not supervising."

Thuviel bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile, tiny tongues of flame already dancing in his nostrils. _Of course, ebrithil. Nothing to worry about here_.

Eragon let out a great sigh as his four eldest apprentices sauntered out of hearing range. Corrin hid a smile by turning to run a hand over Kiera's wing. She acknowledged him with a thread of thought but continued to glare ruminatively at Thuviel as Eragon began the process of casting wards for both of them.

"They probably won't really set the Court on fire, if that helps," Corrin offered when the long enchantment finally concluded, glancing up.

"Oh, almost certainly not," Eragon agreed, shaking out of his contemplation. "If you live around them long enough, though, you sort of get used to their ability to create minor mayhem when bored." Corrin chuckled, but his mirth stuttered when Eragon pointed a finger at him. "You, on the other hand, I expect to at least keep _yourself_ out of trouble, even if I know tempering them is a losing battle."

Corrin smiled nervously and ran a hand through his hair, yanking a few curls. "I, um, I'll try?"

 _But previous experience suggests you will probably fail_ , appends Kiera privately, recalling for him several pranks which either Leah or Varog has already drawn him into. Corrin kicked her and hoped very much that Eragon hadn't noticed.

If the Head Rider saw, he forbore to comment, instead saying only, "Fear not; I'm sure you'll do fine," and added over his shoulder as he left, "and just in case I'll send Murtagh up to check on you rapscallions in a few hours."

 _You assume that he would stop the mayhem rather than aid and abet it,_ Saphira grumbled, but Eragon only laughed and jumped higher than Corrin had ever seen a human manage to catch the straps of her saddle. Kiera finally unbent enough to place her head next to him on the stone, and the two of them watched as Saphira opened wide azure wings and departed for the northern forest wherein the elves would cast their rituals.

"Let's go, little brother," Leah called back to him from a distance. "It's beginning."

Corrin jumped and jogged after her, with Kiera grumpily following along behind him.

 _ **Bonus points to anyone who noticed the tiny reference to The 13th Warrior! I will post the second Dashelgr chapter tomorrow; until then, please feel free to comment with any constructive criticism or consistency errors. I hope everyone reading continues to enjoy this fic!**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**Hello again! This chapter picks up more or less when the actual spellcasting starts, and while it's dialogue-heavy, I had a ton of fun writing this and I hope it's an enjoyable read! As always, I appreciate every comment, so please feel free to send me any constructive criticism or consistency errors that you notice.**_

Dusk fell like a gauzy curtain as the sun sank behind the mountains and the sky above darkened. Leah had summoned a double handful of pale flames to float above the stone pavers, and the flickering light glinted off the blade as Corrin avoided stabbing himself by a very narrow margin.

 _I think you're still holding it wrong_ , Kiera offered, as Corrin glared at the whittling knife that Leah had loaned him.

"It might also help if you worked with the grain instead of across it," Varog advised without looking up from his own woodworking.

"I thought I was!" Corrin protested, holding up the lump of wood as proof. Leah snickered.

Varog sighed and set his own project aside, gesturing for Corrin to toss him the offending object. When it landed in his hands Varog turned it over with a delicacy at odds with his bulky knuckles and let the firelight play over its edges. Galzra lifted his head so that he could watch over Varog's shoulder with one plate-sized eye.

"Use the tip of the blade less," the Urgal offered finally, and having delivered that verdict lobbed the victim of Corrin's inexperienced ministrations back to him. Corrin, with the whittling knife still in his good hand, reached out with the other and managed to bobble the chunk of wood for all of two seconds before it clattered to the ground. Kiera hummed with amusement that was rather less sympathetic than Corrin liked.

 _It is very good for a first try,_ Galzra told him kindly, _and the knife is a little short anyways._

Leah looked up, affronted. "I gave him my better one!"

Varog snorted. "Better by human standards, maybe."

"Yes, well, we all know what design specifications _your_ tools are built to," Leah sniffed.

Corrin held his tongue, not wanting to look clueless, despite the familiar state of confusion which assaulted him whenever Leah and Varog's three-year acquaintance started to show in their conversation. Kiera was less restrained.

 _Perhaps you'd care to share the joke with the rest of us?_ she asked tartly.

Thuviel, who had been ignoring the lot of them, piped in gleefully. _No, we would not care to. Mind your own business._

Kiera, not remotely in a forgiving mood after the mockery earlier, snarled audibly, but Galzra forestalled an altercation with a strategic swipe of his tail across Thuviel's nose. _Enough,_ the grey dragon growled, _and anyway there is no we, as you weren't part of the conversation._

Corrin felt very, very lost, and it must have showed because Leah took pity on both Kiera and him. "Varog's whittling knives have a particularly unusual backstory."

Varog twirled one of said knives absently. "Is not that unusual."

"Tell it to them, though, I really want to see their faces," Leah said, grinning in a way that made Corrin decidedly apprehensive.

Varog gave Leah a narrow-eyed look, but nodded to Corrin, returning to whittling as he talked. "Well, my initiation is the beginning. When a young Urgal comes of age, they must needs defeat another creature in combat before they are inducted into tribe Bolvek as adults. For my trial, I was to kill a Nagra, but… I made mistakes in my hunting, and when given the choice between escaping or risking my life in a battle that I was unlikely to win, I ran." The Urgal's voice went very flat, but the muscles in his shoulders and neck were tense. "To fail in your trial is a very shameful thing among my people, little brother. So much so that when my father led our tribe to war, I was the only horned ram left behind."

"I'm sorry," Corrin said softly.

Varog shrugged with what Corrin suspected was feigned nonchalance. "It was my own doing. But, because of my shame, I was the only ram of fighting age left in the village. A company of soldiers discovered us while the rams were gone. I was standing watch with my sister when they tried to sneak up by night." The young Kull looked up at Corrin and bared his teeth, which could have been a smile or a snarl. "I killed twenty-seven men barehanded while my sister roused the village. Afterwards the Herndall ruled that I had undone the shame of my retreat and earned my horns after all."

Corrin nodded slowly, impressed. "It's quite a feat. But how is that related to the whittling knife?"

By way of answer, Varog held up the whittling knife so the odd yellowish handle was visible. "It is also tradition that the Urgal takes the creature from their trial to make something useful from."

Corrin didn't understand for a moment, and then he did and could not keep from staring at the yellow hilt of the blade; bone, he now knew, that had once resided in one of his own race.

Leah snickered. "Priceless."

Beside him, Kiera lifted her head from the ground. Corrin had only that much warning before Shruikan stalked out of the night, Blodhgarm by his side. Even with the firelight glinting off scales and fur, the black dragon and the black-furred elf were difficult to see. "Blodhgarm-elda," Varog growled in greeting.

Blodhgarm returned the greeting. "Still terrifying people with that story, I see."

Leah laughed, and tossed her head in Shruikan's direction. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to," she said. "I haven't seen you around Court this evening."

 _Flying_ , Shruikan explained curtly, but Corrin was surprised to feel an undercurrent of anger and frustration in the dragon's thoughts. It didn't seem to be directed at them, but it was viscerally present all the same.

Leah lowered her whittling, exchanging a frown with Varog. "What's wrong, Shruikan?"

Blodhgarm answered instead. "We went to Eragon again about the wild dragon eggs," he explained. "No luck."

"Oh, _no_ ," Leah groaned. Varog snarled in displeasure, and Galzra and Thuviel echoed him.

Kiera shifted minutely as Shruikan walked past them, one eye on his lashing tail, but the black dragon gave her a wide berth as he made his way around the perimeter of the firelight. "He claims that he's concerned," Blodhgarm continued, "about adding more strain to the resources of the area so soon after Kiera's arrival."

 _Ridiculous,_ Galzra proclaimed firmly.

"Oh, of course," Blodhgarm agreed, "and I told him so, that the area around the lake could support three more dragons at least, but he's already convinced himself that it can't be done safely."

"Would he listen to you if we all went to him as a group?" Corrin suggested before he could talk himself out of contributing. Kiera had gone very still and he could tell she was listening intently.

Leah shook her head. "Tried it last year. Same answer."

 _If the problem is resource management,_ Kiera offered in a strained but reasonable tone, _why not simply have the wild dragons hunt somewhere farther away from the Court? Surely this cannot be the only place in this side of the continent where dragons can live._

Leah paused before replying. "I would assume that Eragon and Saphira are worried they won't be able to control the wild hatchlings in an emergency if they lived that far away."

 _We,_ Shruikan stressed, _are wild dragons. Neither has the right to control_. So saying, the black dragon threw himself down on the far side of the fire with such force that the ground trembled.

 _What say the Eldunari?_ Galzra directed the question at Blodhgarm.

"They are split," Blodhgarm said, "but Umaroth and Glaedr insist that it is the Head Rider's prerogative to decide how to allocate the resources available to the Riders. If Eragon has decided our resources are too limited, well, what he says goes."

 _But that's stupid!_ Kiera declared passionately, and Corrin realized abruptly that she was far more upset than she had let on. T _he dragons are still on the brink of extinction, and except for Shruikan right now there aren't any wild dragons at all! We should be pushing our resources as far as they can stretch, when we are so few, and the wild dragons still in the shell shouldn't be forced to remain trapped just because Corrin and I are here, that isn't right!_ Had she been a human girl rather than a dragon, Corrin might have thought her tone tearful, and the depths of her upset were clear to everyone.

Corrin didn't blame her: the thought that he and Kiera might be preventing more dragons from being born because they lived at Court and not in Ellesmera made him more than a little upset himself.

 _No_ , Shruikan agreed, but his tone was already leaching away from rage and into resignation. _Not right. But not your doing._

"Certainly not," Leah agreed firmly. "Don't let that bother you; he's been saying the same thing for three years without you and Corrin around as an excuse."

"The worst," Blodhgarm continued abruptly, "is that he keeps throwing my own arguments about the importance of Dashelgr back at me."

 _He does so because your arguments are sound,_ offered Galzra, who had shifted until he sat next to Shruikan, _even if he does twist your intentions a bit._

"Perhaps," Blodhgarm growled, "but that doesn't make me any happier about it, and I, for one, would like a distraction." He flung himself down to sit next to Varog. "How's the whittling going?"

Varog, by way of answer, demonstrated a remarkably detailed statuette of a wolf, complete with tiny jagged clumps of fur. Leah offered a much rougher but still recognizable wolf-dog-thing, which looked promising save for its rounded ears. Corrin grimaced, but lifted up his own work in turn, of which the best that could be said was that it had four legs.

"Excellent," Blodhgarm proclaimed. "I declare, I think you three are the best whittlers within a hundred miles."

 _But there aren't any other people within a hundred miles,_ Kiera said in confusion.

Corrin tried to put his head in his hands and narrowly avoided stabbing his cheekbone with the knife.

 _This is Blodhgarm's very poor idea of a joke,_ Galzra explained kindly.

 _Oh. Like the faelnirv from Alastr?_

 _Exactly._

"I'm very funny," Blodhgarm said, solemn in his dry way. "It isn't my fault none of you appreciate me."

 ** _For brief clarification, my headcanon is that one of the effects of Dashelgr that cannot be blocked by the wards is the general magnification of emotional states, and that even with wards the spellwork basically acts like a mild intoxicant._**


End file.
